Lionheart
by mektp98
Summary: It was unreasonable. This love. This affection. These hardships. She did not rule. She did not command. She complied. She submitted. She was no King. She was a Lionheart. [Reim-Centric] [Muu Alexius/OC] [slow burn] [slightAU]
1. Her Name Is

Hello there! The name's ME and I'm glad to see that you fell for that fandom as well.

I've got nothing much to say so I'll let you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I wish I could say Shinobu Ohtaka stole Magi from me; the truth being him the true owner of course. Damn you, Shinobu Ohtaka!

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter I: Her name is…

* * *

 _ **Ash**_ **.**

* * *

 _She felt sick._ Her eyes were wide open but she couldn't see anything. And everything was so dark. She could hear _them_ , distinctly. _Screams_. _Tears_. But she couldn't do anything. She was lying here, _useless_. _Broken_. One blow and she had been down. _Weak_. She had been so weak. Not that she had even an ounce of strength in that weak body of hers, in the first place. Not when _they_ were always around her, protecting her from danger. _From Fate_. _And she was dying_. _Weak. Alone. Useless_. She was in her death throes and no one knew, _no one had never knew_.

" _Oya? You still alive?"_

If only she could have died _faster_. She'd have fallen into oblivion. _But she did not_. And she wished, wished so much that she was no more part of this world.

* * *

 _ **Bones.**_

* * *

 _She screamed_. Screamed to death, begged to be _killed_. But no one heard. No one had never heard. _She was alone_. She always had been alone. _Companions? Comrades?_ Did these words really exist when she was slaughtered savagely, with no pity, no mercy? And she cried again, cursing these people she used to call ' _friends_ ', cursing this place she used to call ' _home_ '. There was nothing, nothing but her pain. Was death really _that_ painful? She couldn't remember. She couldn't think. It was just this unbearable pain, and the curses she screamed to her so-called friend, her so-called home.

" _Now, curse your fate. Spit on your fate, on your so-called mighty King and I'll let you die peacefully._ "

She cursed. _Her hangman not her fate_.

* * *

 _ **Death.**_

* * *

 _She was falling._ Far, _so far way_. Or maybe she was soaring. She could see everything. _Women screaming. Children crying. Men roaring_. Fire and blood. Everything was red, _so red_ , red like her hair, red like her eyes. And the _witch was laughing_. A shrill and inhuman laugh. She was practically dancing, arms raised toward the sky, eyes widened by madness.

" _Narissa!_ "

Ears catching the familiar sonority of her name, she watched her king, _her friend_ , kneeling next to her body. How had he even recognized her, when her body was disabled and drenched in blood? She felt a shiver running down her spine when he took her dead body's hand, bending over to hide his face to his followers.

" _What did they do to you? You died here alone my friend, without anyone knowing. I am so sorry…_ "

She wanted to scream, scream that she was _here_. But she knew she couldn't possibly do that. _She had to die_. It was fate. She could have been stronger, faster, sturdier. The outcome would've been the same. _She was fated to die_. She laid a ghostly hand on her king shoulder, squeezing it with all her might.

" _Thou shalt be a great King one more time…_ " Then her body dissipated like smoke and she smiled, not afraid to fade, to be erased from all memories.

She died alone. She was always alone. _But never once did she regret it. Never once._

"… _kid."_

* * *

 _ **Birth.**_

* * *

" _ **Aaaaaargh!**_ "

Shaky hands laid the drenched fabric on the burning forehead. Not appeased the least bit, the older woman resumed her screaming, writhing in pain. Feeling tears gathering in her eyes, the young one tried to make a dash for the door, but the firm grip of the other one on her wrist prevented her from doing so.

"Dost it, Mircela." The suffering woman ordered weakly. When the young girl made a move toward the door again, she tightened her grip on her. " _Dost it! Makest it stop!_ "

Horrified, Mircela vigorously shook her head. " _I cannot!_ I am no suitable to do it my lady, I have to call _him!_ I cannot do it myself, please understand! I cannot make it _stop_ , it is progressing and I have no idea how to restrain it! I am powerless, I cannot do anything to help thee, _to save thee!_ Please!"

She was _powerless_. So damn powerless. She couldn't do anything, couldn't help her, couldn't– The older woman gave a painful crying, her hands rushing to her belly. Flurried, Mircela looked at the door, then at the suffering woman. Then, " _damn that useless and lazy good-for-nothing guy_ " she rushed at her mistress side, kneeling in front of her outspread legs.

" _Right_ , I can do it, I know I can do it." She mumbled breathing deeply. "Right, I will count to three my lady. Pushest at three. One, two…"

" _ **Aaaaaargh!**_ "

 _One hour_. One hour and she was holding the newborn in her frail arms, eyes widened with shock but a large smile on her child-like face. Beaming with pride, she rushed at her mistress side, kneeling it front of her tired face to show her the baby. Trying to blink back her exhaustion, the woman brushed the child's cheek.

"A girl, huh? Then, her name shalt be–"

A chilling cry reverberated in the room. Agape, Mircela froze on her spot, watching darkness swallowing her mistress, covering her feet and ascending rapidly to engulf the remainder of her tired body. The young girl snapped out of her trance when the baby in her arms started to cry, loud wail echoing in the room.

"Master!" She screamed, unable to do anything to slow down the curse.

The door behind her opened with violence. " _Eeleni!_ " She heard the newcomer cry out. Then chaos settled in the room. Stirred, aroused, _rukhs_ swarmed widely within the room, white, black, swirling around the four people present. A loud, deafening roar echoed and Mircela, tightening her grip on the baby in her arms, body thrown backward and slamming into the wall, with a grunt filled of pain, blood dripping from her forehead.

 _Then silence_.

Quaky the young girl, peeked at the baby face, who was now quiet and gazing at her with _so calm_ , _so_ _familiar_ eyes. Slowly, she brushed the child's red hair, feeling tears gathering again. She was so much, looked so much like her mother. Same eyes, same hair, same breathtaking look. She was–

" _Aliyya_." Came a faint and hoarse voice. And when Mircela raised her eyes, she allowed herself to cry because the darkness had reached her mistress face. Because she was _on the verge of dying_. "Her name shalt be Aliyya. Takest care of her, Mircela. Please, takest car–"

 _And no more words_. Mircela cried like if there was no tomorrow. And this ' _good-for-nothing, incapable guy_ ' like Mircela liked to call him did no better. On her first day of life, little Aliyya saw nothing but her father and the woman called Mircela crying to death over a dead body.

* * *

 _ **Quirk.**_

* * *

" _May Lord Bishamonten bless thee."_ Patting the child's hair, Mircela kindly yanked a strand of hair between her thumb and forefinger. "Thou shalt always pay thy respect to Lord Bishamonten, Lady Aliyya. When thou art his child and he is granting thee with his protection, it is only natural to worship him."

Brushing the older woman's hand away from her hair, she cocked her head to the side. Mircela stiffened when she opened her mouth, eager to finally hear what the child's voice sounded like. But as if she had read her thoughts, the girl closed her mouth and resumed her staring, returning to her lackadaisical self. A little upset over the child's behavior, Mircela yanked one more time a strand of hair, her lips curving in an affectionate smile when the little girl glared at her.

"One day, when thou will be old enough, I will show thee this homeland of mine. Forgotten from everyone, worshipers of a forgotten god. _Beria_. If one day thou art fortunate enough to meet people from this island, tellest them my name. They will welcome thee. However, thou shalt not reveal to _anyone_ what thou knowest about _Beria_. There is a reason why these people do not mix with the rest of the world."

Inwardly, the woman smiled, pleased to have caught the child's attention. But she was still too young to hear about the _sacrifice_. Mircela knew she had probably gotten soft because of the time she had passed with her dead mistress, but Beria's teaching never left one's mind. And above all, the impellent sacrifice of one's life. Mircela snapped out of her trance when Aliyya tugged at her tunic. Little Aliyya – despite her calm and quite self – was a good child. Too soft, too frail. And Mircela was a barbarian. She was from Beria. And a child from the cursed island couldn't possibly forget where he was from. _Or what his fate was_.

" _Here_."

 _Or where his heart resided._ Moved by an unknown desire, Mircela gently took the child's hand to place it on her chest, where she could feel her heart beating. _There_. That invisible bond that seemed to link them. That was provoking all these weird feeling within her chest. As if she had been waiting this child's birth all her life. _"You'll feel it, kid. When the person you've been waiting for all your life appears in front of you. When it will be time for you to sacrifice yourself. Beria's really cruel, isn't it? All your life, you're fated to die for your loved one. Pathetic."_ And she was feeling it. _There_. Right in front of her, the person she had been fated to die for since her birth.

" _My life is yours, Lady Aliyya. Today. And every day of your life_."

And as if it was made of mud, the woman's hand sank in the child chest– _touching her heart maybe_. And when she finally opened her eyes, gazing at the child in front of her, she saw _it_. _She saw them_. _Rukhs_ , swarming widely around her. _Oath_. _Fate_. _Love_. Shaken, Mircela buried her head in her young mistress chest, wrapping her arms around her. _Today. And every day of your life_.

* * *

 _ **Fate**_.

* * *

 _Author's Notes:_ The english used in the last two parts is quite an archaic one. If you guys don't know :

I am/have

Thou art/ha **st**

He/She/It is/ha **th**

etc.

You/you/your = Thou/thee/thy-thine

As you've probably guessed, English ain't my native language. So, I'm actually looking for a beta-reader. You interested? You know someone who might be interested? You know how to contact me. Huggies ~


	2. Heart Made of Steel

**Lionheart**

Chapter II: Heart made of steel

* * *

 _ **Ray**_

* * *

 _She couldn't breathe_. The water was cold and her hair were sticking to her skin, water dripping from the locks. She was going to die. As stubborn and strong-willed as she had been, she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't bear it anymore. How many time had she already spent between these walls?

" _If you want to die so badly, then go ahead_."

A piercing shriek escaped her lips and her head dived in the water one more time, engulfing the screams. Water rushed inside her lungs as she trashed wildly, legs giving out beneath her. _She couldn't breathe_. She had yet to live a whole life and here she was, already embracing death.

She was going to become a part of the _Great_ _Flux,_ she was going to die when she knew nothing about her parents, when the only person she had ever loved had made her swear to live a life full of happiness before passing away. _What kind of pathetic life was that?_ She was going to die when she wished so much more, when she was crying, begging whatever existing divinity to let her live _longer._

 _I don't want to die_.

She was begging, prying for a chance to accomplish all the things she couldn't have accomplished during her so ridiculously short life. She wanted to live. It was not her time ( _who was she to decide that in the first place?_ ) She was fated to live greater things, to accomplish greater things. _She had a future in front of her_. When nobody knew if it was supposed to be dark or bright, she still had a future. Yet, _here she was_ _ **dying**_.

 _You won't._

Dizzy, barely conscious, she weakly registered the sound of an explosion. The pressure on her head alleviated and she weakly threw her body backward. Gasping for air, she fell on her back, _hard_ , her mind too cloudy to process what was happening. _Everything was hurting_. Her lungs, her throat, her back, everything was on fire. She whimpered, covering her naked body to protect herself form the cold.

" _Oh my god. Alva, there's a child!_ "

Gentle hands slowly grabbed her aching shoulders and she winced, her breathing quickening with fear.

" _Ssh. There, there. Calm down, we're not going to harm you. I'm going to take you with me. Do you hear me? I'm freeing you. You're free._ "

When the woman started to gently stroke her hair, she relaxed a bit, daring to take a peek at her face. _Light_. For a second, everything was just a blinding light. Then the woman's face appeared. _Skin whiter than everything she had seen, hair so blond that they seemed white._ Breathtaking. And there was no threat. Just a distressed face, an unwelcomed scowl on it.

When rougher, firmer hands suddenly grabbed her forearms, she screamed, a disagreeable feeling falling on her stomach. The hands froze, releasing her and she threw her body forward, in the woman's arms, shaking with fear. _She wanted to live_. She didn't want to fall in that hell again. Softer, the woman's hands gently patted her hair.

" _You're scaring her, huh, idiot_." She hissed to whoever was here with them.

A snort echoed in the little prison. The woman threw an insult at her partner, said-partner sneering at her. After a few seconds of arguing, the two adults– _finally realizing where they were and what situation they were in_ –fell into a deafening silence.

" _I'm not a suspicious person_." She jumped, lips quivering when she realized that the man was talking to her. " _I may seem like it but I will by no mean harm you in any way. The only thing I am now thinking over is how to get you out of here. So please trust me on this one. I will bring you out. I swear_."

 _He was not lying_. People like her– _cornered wild beasts_ –always relied on their instincts. Right now, her instinct was telling her to trust that man. So she stilled, not moving an inch when the– _now familiar_ –rough, firm hands grabbed her forearms. When all she had been feeling was cold, it suddenly felt warm. She was buried in the man's clothes, her back directly pressed against his chest where she could hear and feel his heartbeat.

" _We'll bring you out. I promise, kid_." He promised quietly.

* * *

 _ **Hope.**_

* * *

"What does a no manners, bomb-freak like you know about upbringing? You couldn't raise yourself, how do you hope to raise a child, _huh_ , dummy?"

 _Himalia Peyrus_ was a short-tempered woman. Everyone knew that. She knew how to use words–hell, alone on a battlefield, she'd probably tear her way through a war with words. When she always used an overly polite tone, she was sneakier and snarkier than even a snake, well-concealed insults showering noblemen without them ever realizing her intents. Himalia had never been caught disrespecting anyone. All of this excluding the presence of her partner. If Himalia temper was short, she seemed to snap every time the said-partner opened his mouth.

"Don't start. I took a liking to the child and because she has nowhere to call home, I'd like to offer mine. You and I both know how hard it is to grow alone. When even I know that I am not the most suitable parent, I'd like to offer her a home. C _ome on_ , parenthood can't be that hard, can it?"

He laughed good-naturally waving his hand, not noticing his partner's twitching eyes. When most people had tendencies to underestimate him, _Alva Vernagos_ was by no mean stupid. Sure, the man was lazy, sheepish and shrugged off every problem with a revolting carelessness, but he was competent. He might not have been as talented as Himalia for words and politics, but he largely surpassed her in the war arts. He proudly owned the title of country's best swordsman. Alva was simply strong.

When their usefulness had made its proof separately, they were making miracles together. Firstly simply low-ranking soldier for one, daughter of a mildly powerful advisor for the other, they were now both chief-advisor directly under the _Great Priestess_. Alva's parents had died when he was still young and before engaging into the army, he had worked hard for survival in the city's slums. Himalia, born from an illegitimate union, had been the forgotten child for a long time. Both of them knew how hard it was to grow up without anyone to look after you in their own ways.

" _Fine_." The woman sighed, "We need a plan. Something that'll protect the child from the country, from her, huh, situation. I know how to do it but it's risky and we both need to be ready for the, huh, consequences."

Alva raised an eyebrow questioningly and Himalia frowned, glancing at the girl's sleeping form.

"I will adopt her in the Peyrus family. But," She continued, raising her hand when her friend frowned disapprovingly, to prevent him from interjecting "not only that. I will form her. I will make her my successor. You and I are starting to age, people do not live old in this war, huh, era. I will make her my successor, I will form her, I will shape her into this country's, huh, shield. She will be devoted, dedicated and she will lose her own will; but she will be, huh, protected."

Gazing at his friend, Alva suddenly felt the years' weight on his shoulders. He wasn't in his prime anymore, not as strong as he had once been. With all the wars, he was actually surprised that both of them had not met an early demise. They were starting to grow really old–his fifties were not _that_ far–and people did not grow old in this world. If they weren't killed during an umpteenth battle, a disease would have reason of them. Taking this young– _Solomon so young_ , already hurt by life's horror child, and entrusting this country in her hands was not that of a bad idea.

" _Sure._ " Alva agreed, a warm smile spreading on his lips. "I trust you, _old hag_. If you think that is the best for the child, I follow you on this one. Here in Reim–"

" _Alva. Himalia._ "

Both of them swirled around, startled by the new voice. Then they dropped on one knee, respectfully greeting the authoritarian figure that had entered the room. When many were devoted to the king, they had chosen to offer their lives to this so frail-like person. She had offered them a chance to prove their worth. None of them had forgotten what she had done for them.

" _Lady Scheherazade._ "

Reim Empire's Great Priestess and Magi. _Scheherazade_. When a lot of people criticized Scheherazade's amount of power over the kingdom, both advisors didn't care the least about opinions. The Magi was leading the country wisely, there was nothing more to say. She had brought prosperity to Reim over the past hundred years, there was nothing to complain about. While the Magi neared the bed, the two advisors warily eyed the child who was recently accompanying the woman-child everywhere. Second son of the Alexius family, _Muu Alexius_. Bound to become one of the Magi's King Vessel at the rate he was advancing.

" _Lady Peyrus. Advisor Vernagos."_ The young one greeted respectfully, bowing faintly.

Alva quirked an eyebrow whilst Himalia nodded her head. The Alexius family was easily more powerful and important than the Peyrus one. And Alva was a son of nobody. Muu Alexius was easily more important than both of them, simply due to his family status. Yet, here was he, bowing in front of them. A warm, playful grin stretched Alva's lips. Two strides were enough to reach the teenager. Patting his head, the old man cocked his head to the side.

"You seem to be as healthy as always, young master Muu. If you don't mind me asking, how is your swordsmanship going?"

Alva was not an expert in mind reading like Himalia, but Muu's distressed face seemed to be an answer on its own. The old man chuckled, sympathetically patting his head. Alva was a natural with swordsmanship. Right from the start, he had considered the sword as an extension of his own body; but for Muu Alexius, whose body was almost a weapon on its own, it was probably difficult to handle a tool that threw his balance off.

"Young master Muu is talented, I am convinced that it is only a matter of time before he grasps the trick."

Muu smiled.

"You are too kind, Advisor Vernagos, but since they are your words, I shall keep them in mind."

Alva grinned at the young man who slowly nodded, before abruptly whirling around to join the magi and the actual head of the Peyrus family, both of them silently watching the petite form of the child wrapped in the blankets. She was not moving an inch, more dead than actually asleep.

"You said you found her in the lowest level of the company's building, didn't you?" Schehezazade asked. "What is her name?"

Himalia nodded slowly, warily eyeing the magi. "She did not remember. She seems to suffer from a trauma that caused amnesia. Alva and I chose a temporary name as a replacement. She is now ' _Noor'_."

She tensed when Scheherazade hummed quietly. Not that they did not trust the woman but Scheherazade was too good when it came to dissimulate things and hiding what she was really thinking. At the moment, Himalia feared that the Priestess would order them to get rid of the child.

"You shall take great care of her, Alva, Himalia. This child _will_ be a valuable asset to our country when she is older."

With a final look, the priestess turned on her heels, done with the problem. "I count on you to help this child as well, Muu."

He did not need to be asked twice.

"Of course."

Both chief-advisor exchanged a glance when the woman disappeared behind the door. Rather than following her, the half-breed took a sit next to the bed. Noiseless accomplices, both adults positioned themselves next to each of his sides, gazing at the sleeping child. Like Muu, she now belonged to Reim's youth. Muu was already almost Alva's equal. This young girl would be Himalia's; that way the unity rule would be preserved. At each period, there were always two people supporting the magi. Alva and Himalia were not the first and they would not be the last.

* * *

 _ **Faith**_

* * *

Despite his old age, Alva's ability with a sword hadn't regressed. He wasn't as agile and as fast as he had once been, but his technique was as accurate as ever. Little Noor grunted with frustration, thrusting her sword forward. The old man took a step back, dodging the blow. Using her momentum, the child attempted a slash only to have it blocked by her opponent's sword. With a swift motion, Alva disarmed her easily, pointing the tip of his sword at her throat.

"That was better. I guess that fencing matches better with your speed than Reim Royal Swordplay. Nevertheless you are still acting as if the sword was bothering you. You have to correct that." The old man chided, grinning when the child adverted her eyes. "I am sure that you will fix this problem quickly. Young master Muu encounters as much trouble as you do with the sword."

She perked up at the mention of the other fanalis. Alva wiggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes. There was almost a 7 years difference between the two. Himalia was teaching her everything she had to know about the world, the politics and economics. Alva was teaching her the swordsmanship. And Muu Alexius was providing her everything the two adults could not. How to use her body, her strength, her speed and her enhanced senses. He taught her how to be a fanalis.

"How old are you again…?" Alva asked randomly, surprising Noor in her train of thoughts.

She blinked, unable to understand where this question came from. "I beg you pardon?"

Alva lazily waved his hand, dismissing the subject. He then gestured her to follow his lead, quickly leaving the Royal Palace backyard. Striding across the corridor as if he owned the place, Alva respectfully greeted every nobleman they crossed, turning a blind eye on the disdainful and accusatory eyes following them. Alva and Himalia's decision to form the little girl had not pleased everyone. It was an honor to be chosen as the successor of the magi's closest advisor. Yet, instead of a powerful and well-educated child, they had chosen a daughter of nobody. No one knew where she came from, who her parents were, which country she had belonged to beforehand. This _Mircela_ person–whom she didn't even remembered clearly–was the only human being the girl knew. She knew nothing about the world, the countries, the languages, the war, didn't even know her own name. And she had been the chosen one. _How disgraceful_.

Alva stopped dead in his tracks– _Noor following suit_ –when he came across a particularly bothering nobleman. _Salih Xee_ from the _Jameel_ family. They were influent in the military field, not as much as the Alexius, though. The man was a high-ranking general who had tried for years to make his daughter an apprentice of the advisors. 16 was now a too advanced age to put the young _Martha_ under the two advisors' care, but the man was still yearning for their approval despite the fact that the second successor had been chosen. Here was he, strutting in the palace's corridor with his daughter at his arm, both of them glowering at the little fanalis girl. Alva cleared his throat to ease the tension, sweating bullets when they redirected their furious gazes on him.

" _Advisor Vernagos_." The man greeted stiffly, barely tilting his head to salute him. "And… _his ward_."

Next to him, his daughter dropped a curtsy, eyes glued on the child next to the Advisor. Alva bowed as well, showing respect to the general and hid a smile when his little ward bowed lowly as well, face blank, chin slightly tilted toward the floor. The girl knew nothing when she had arrived in Reim, it was true. But two years had passed since then and both Himalia and he had not gone easy on her. Merciless, the war strategist was dropping all her knowledge on the girl, waiting for her to assimilate everything without complaining– _a thing that the child did_. As for him, she might be a child and a girl, he fought her the same way he had fought anyone, _ruthlessly_. The nescient child she was before did not exist anymore.

" _General Jameel_. _Miss Martha_." Little Noor greeted quietly, eyes glued to the carpet under her feet. "What a pleasure to stumble upon you. I do hope you are enjoying this day-off with you daughter, general. No one knows when chaos will strike again or _who_ will provoke it."

Alva hid a smile. Himalia had formed her well. When she showed greater abilities in the war arts rather than in the strategies– _well she was a fanalis, fighting was like a second nature after all_ –she seemed to grasp rather easily the words-game playing in the royal world. Well, she was Himalia's pupil after all. The general gritted his teeth, then scoffed, turning on his heels to leave the scene. Martha scoffed at the two of them, before trailing after her father; and Alva patted his ward's head, a playful grin stretching his lips.

"Truly a Himalia-like sass. Impressive."

Noor smiled lightly at that. She did not know if any better compliment existed.

* * *

 _ **Credence**_

* * *

 _She was twelve_ and for the first time _in years_ she was outside the Empire's land. _Kou Empire_. Everything about the Kou Empire was so foreign. _The culture_. _The language_. _The layout_. It was so different, yet so thrilling. She had learned Reim language. _Then the common language_. And finally, this– _Solomon_ so utterly complex dialect. Himalia had been merciless, showering her in all the work she could. She had studied. _Hard_. _Everything_. And here she was now, not missing an inch from the pleasant conversation occurring between her mentor and the Emperor _Hakutoku_.

 _The Kou Empire Imperial Family_. The emperor, Ren Hakutoku was as majestic as Alva had described him. His eyes were frank and he gave an intimidating vibe. Close to him was the empress, _Ren Gyokuen_. She was a mesmerizing woman, her eyes were soft and she was gazing at Himalia somewhat fondly. On the emperor's right were the two imperial princes, _Ren Hakuyuu and Hakuren_. The firstborn, Hakuyuu seemed very severe and serious, almost boring a hole into Himalia's head. Contrariwise, his younger brother seemed rougher, less rigid as he fidgeted in his seat with nervousness. Both of them were the spitting image of their parents.

"Is that the one, Himalia?" Gyokuen asked soflty, cocking her head to the side.

As the most trusted advisor of the Reim Empire, Himalia had met both the Emperor and his wife three years ago. After the unification of three countries in order to save the people of Tenka in the extreme Eastern Plains by the Emperor Hakutoku, Himalia had been sent by Scheherazade to check the man who would rule the east. Gyokuen had found the woman so pleasant that she had asked her to visit again. Then Himalia had come again and again. At least once a month, it had become a ritual for Himalia to visit the Kou Empire. Scheherazade was favorable to this close relationship, glad to have eyes in the Kou Empire's affairs.

"She is, my lady."

Quietly, little Noor bowed.

"This Noor shall salute you. It is truly an honor to present my humble self in front of you, _Emperor Hakutoku, Lady Gyokuen_."

It came out smoother than she expected. It seemed that having Himalia as her instructor had its perks despite the numerous downsides. Straightening her posture, the child stared the emperor down, eyes unwavering. She wasn't the pitiful child she once had been. She was Himalia Peyrus's disciple. She had to affirm her position as the woman's successor, to prove her determination so that she would be acknowledged. She was Noor Peyrus, member of the Peyrus family. To not shame Himalia, she had to show everyone she was worthy of attention.

"You taught her good, Himalia. She owns your fierceness, the same daring eyes. How wonderful." The Empress giggled, waving her sleeves.

Little Noor quickly dropped a curtsy, internally thanking the empress. _She was doing well_. She was not shaming Himalia. As long as the woman's honor was intact, it was ok. No matter if people underestimated her, if they believed her unworthy of the old woman's teaching. As long as Himalia's honor was fine, so was she.

"She's wonderful, isn't she? She is my honor and my pride. She makes a more than suitable successor. I humbly request _your Majesties_ to treat her kindly. As trained to be my successor as she is, this little Noor is still a child."

Little Noor quietly bristled, irked by her instructor's kindness. She was not worth it. The woman did not need to be that considerate, she was by no mean worth it. Himalia was a dignified woman. She did not need to care about anyone or anything. Neither Alva's, nor even Scheherazade's wellbeing. Himalia had never needed to care for anyone, _anything_. She was strong and clever. She knew which things mattered the most, where her priority remained. For the advisor, _pride_ was everything. It was the first thing Himalia had taught her. More than the world history, the politics or economics that could threaten a country, _pride_ was the only thing that really mattered.

Unawareness was unforgivable. Who knew the world and its subtleties could be king, regardless of their strength. If she had been sly enough, Himalia could have dethroned the king without even breaking a sweat. Knowledge was the most dangerous thing existing in this world. However, there was a way to outsmart the one who owned knowledge. Whoever appeared to be proud enough could bluff. No matter how oblivious, how foolish, confidence alone was enough to outmatch knowledge. So yes, Himalia most likely had enough knowledge to drive the Kou Empire into chaos. However never her pride would allow her to give herself over to such a pitiful action. Right now, hearing the so dignified woman stating that she was part of this so treasured pride stirred something in little Noor. _Gratefulness. Dignity_. _Affection_.

It was so weird to feel it now. For the five years she had been in Reim, never once had she felt the slightest of affection for the two advisors. She had been grateful, of course. Who wouldn't have? _But nothing more_. They were no family. No friends. _They were nothing_. Yet, right now, she was feeling something. How much more blind had she been? _Mircelawas not here anymore,b_ ut she had been clinging to the woman's ghost, mourning her demise. Alva and Himalia _loved her_. They were providing her all the affection she needed; a _nd not once had she cared_.

Shameful, she lowered her head, not caring the least of how pathetic she now appeared. In that instant, she was not worthy of Himalia's attention. _Her kindness_. _Her thoughtfulness_. _Her benevolence_. In that instant, she was nothing but an ungrateful brat who had voluntarily turned a blind eye on a woman solicitude, had her act been motivated by pity or sympathy. Himalia had offered her everything that had been taken from her. Her selfish actions deserved nothing but punish–

" _She's the person I wish to protect._ "

 _She burst into tears_. Right there. In front of the Emperor Hakutoku, the Empress, their sons, the noblemen. _Himalia_. Tears gathered in her eyelids and she let it out. _Sorrow. Despair. Resentment_. Himalia got panicky, gesticulating wildly to calm her but little Noor ignored her amusing– _and quite pathetic_ –attempts in soothing her. To move on she needed to cry a last time. Physical pain was horrible but right now, when she was crying over the woman she had loved more than anyone a last time, now that she was trying to make a fresh start, the pain was unbearable. She smiled through her tears, hearing Himalia trying to soothe her, apologize to the emperor and snarl at the noblemen at the same time. _She was loved a_ nd right now, it was all that mattered.

* * *

 _ **Devotion**_

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ **Chapter revised on the 24th of December, 2017**


	3. Grieving

**Lillith** \- You're welcome. I've alway been fond of side characters and I like the idea of giving them more depth, hence this story. I hope you'll like it!

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter III: Grieving

* * *

 **Forwardness**

* * *

 _She liked the empress._ Gradually, she came to understand the fondness Himalia had for the woman. Ren Gyokuen was kind. Kind yes, but powerful. When she made no display of her powers, her eyes betrayed her. She had the eyes of a warrior. The eyes of a woman who knew war, who knew blood, who knew _death_. Yet, she showed nothing but an inexhaustible kindness. Was it appearance? _Reality?_ It didn't matter. Himalia trusted the woman. She trusted her from the bottom of her heart. If Himalia did, it was little Noor's duty to trust her as well. No one was more skilled at figuring out people than Himalia. Little Noor was not a beginner either. And in their eyes, Ren Gyokuen was nothing but a clever woman, deeply loving both her family and country, wishing nothing but peace.

" _Ah! Lady Himalia's little crybaby!_ "

Her quill stilled.

" _You're being incredibly rude, Hakuren_."

Quietly, she set the quill down in her inkpot. Still a draft, but her representation of the Kou Empire was acceptable. The east boarders seemed quite misplaced, but it was admissible considering the fact that the _Kouga Clan_ in the _Northern Tenzan Plateau_ was still putting up a strong resistance to the country's attempts in annexing the region. Taking a deep breath, the little fanalis wordlessly turned around. Shamelessly, Ren Hakuren was peeking at her work over her shoulder. _Rude_. Little Noor supressed a scowl at such uncouthness, but frowned when he bend over her, scrutinizing her face with surprise.

She exhaled a quiet breath when he straightened up. Distaste clearly written all over her face, she snarled at him. Ren Hakuren was a member of the imperial family, it was undeniable. But it gave him no right to rudely approach a complete stranger and stick his nose in his business. Royal prince or not, he had no right to strut around. Then, all of a sudden, the boy laughed. Not the quiet snicker behind the sleeves the noblemen did. He roared with laughter, then gave her a pat on the shoulder that nearly sent her flailing to the floor. His rudeness widely exceeded the use people made of the word ' _rudeness_ '.

A broad elbow suddenly jabbed him in the ribs, efficiently silencing him. Tall, grand, the firstborn Ren Hakuyuu stared his brother down, frowning disapprovingly. When Hakuren mumbled something that vaguely looked like a sheepish apology, the first imperial prince turned her way and bowed lowly, offering his own apologies for his brother's unforgivable demeanor. _How risible_. If she had been younger, she would have played with the two princes, urging them to offer her better apologies to make up for such an insult to her pride. But she was already _twelve_. And Himalia had turned 52 three months ago. It was no time to dwell on such unimportant matters. These two princes were important tools in the good relationship she wished to establish in the future between Reim and Kou. Himalia was getting along pretty well with the empress, _true_. However, nobody saw the old woman as the ' _Reim-Empire-Superior-Advisor-And-Advisor-In-Chief-Of-The-Great-Priestess_ '. She was only Himalia, ' _Friend-Of-The-Empress-And-Harmless-Old-Woman_ '. Himalia had failed. She would not follow her mentor's steps on this particular aspect.

She was carrying the hope of a whole generation. Himalia had been clear: the outcome, the solution to every war and every conflict would reach an end during her time. One more time ( _she had never understood why the old woman was talking as if it already happened in the past_ ) the world would either unify or destroy itself. People would unify under the same banner or slaughter themselves. The next generation would reach a conclusion. Whether it was a good one or not. Make sure that this answer would be the _right_ one, the _good_ one was her job. Make sure that Reim would stay still was her job. _She was born in this world to make sure that these people she liked and their children would stay safe no matter what happen to this world_.

" _Please, raise your head Prince Hakuyuu. It is uncouth for a prince of your stature to lower his head in front of a commoner. If it can ease your concern, I can assure you that none of the words Prince Hakuren used did wound me. In fact, I shall apologize for shaming myself in front of such a gathering. Even this Noor deepest apologies would not know how to excuse such a pitiful display._ "

 _Never falter_ , was the first thing Himalia had taught her, right after the importance of pride. _Stay strong and never falter. For us, chief-advisors, the only task worth our attention is protecting our country, no matter what. No matter who. No matter how_.

* * *

 **Belief**

* * *

"Have you already heard about dungeons, little one?"

They had come back from Kou 5 days ago. Just in time to witness the unstable situation the country found itself in. _Muu was gone, sent away by Scheherazade to conquer a dungeon_. _And Alva was withering_. Alva was _old_. Older than Himalia of at least _6_ years. When he was still vivacious for a person of his age, overwork was out of question. Yet, he had worked so _hard_ during Himalia's absence to please everyone, every demanding nobleman, every complaining citizen, every whining soldier that he had neither eaten nor slept in weeks. It was foolish and utterly stupid. _But it was Alva_. And the man loved Reim more than anyone else. As long as Reim kept existing, then Alva was happy. _How silly_. Yet, he had succeeded in making her feel this stupid, burning passion as well.

" _I have_."

 _Shaky hands clutched calloused one_. Tiredly, Alva smiled at the little girl bent over his bed. _No, no little girl anymore_. She was already twelve, a marriageable age. Yet, he couldn't help but see the little brat Himalia and he had brought over to Reim. A weak, lost, frightened little thing. A wry smile stretched the old man's lips. _How cruel_. Fate had gifted him with the child he could've never had. Alva had only fell in love once before. _He fell hard_. It had been abrupt, striking him without even letting him time to react. Without restraint, unconditionally, Alva had fallen for Reim at first sight. The people, the culture, the _architecture_. His will to protect this haven of peace had been so strong, that in almost 60 years of his life, he had never thought to look at a woman in a romantic way. He had put his life aside and had devoted himself to protect this country at all costs. _It was so honorable and miserable at the same time_. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would never start a family, never have children. _Little Noor_ had been a breath of fresh air. The child he had never dreamed to have. Fate had always been so cruel.

"Are you aware of the power they grant to the one who succeed in conquering them?"

 _Had she any idea of how much he loved her?_

" _I am_."

 _Was she aware of this undying love that burnt in his chest?_

"Will you listen to this old man last wishes?"

 _Could she see this unbearable pain he felt at the mere idea of leaving her behind?_

" _I will_."

 _Had she any idea of how much he wanted to live, only to see how she would grow up?_

"Then come closer. Hear this old man out one last time."

 _Had she any idea of how much he loved her?_

" _I love you Alva_."

 _She did._ Right at this instant, she was certainly as heartbroken as he was. Alva's breath itched in pain. Now, he could almost see it. These mysterious things people called _Rukhs_. Fluttering around him, _singing_ , _dancing_ , inviting him to join then. Exhaling deeply, Alva whispered his last words in his little ward's ear.

 _Farewell, little one_.

And exhaled one last time. Quavering hands clutched the now dead-still one. Everything was silent. Little Noor bent over the dead body, clutching at the blanket covering it. Tears gathered in her eyelids and she buried her face in the throws to hide her face. A strangled sob echoed in the room, a succession of hoarse cries following suit.

" **G-Ga… Ah… A-A…** "

Then her muffled cries morphed into guttural screams.

" ** _A_** - _ **ALVA!**_ "

 _Barely 6 days later, had the rumored deaths of the two imperial princes Hakuyuu and Hakuren and the emperor Hakutoku reached Reim_.

* * *

 **Acceptance**

* * *

Himalia was silently gazing at the majestic edifice a few meters in front of them. She exhaled deeply. From where she was, scarcely a few steps behind her mentor, little Noor could feel the tension electrifying the air. It had been 8 days since Alva's passing. The empire had plunged into chaos. Avid for powers, numbers of councilors had rushed to the Imperial Palace in order to give ' _advices_ ' to the king concerning Alva's successor. Although still unofficial, Muu Alexius had been designated to come after the late Chief-Advisor. The timing couldn't have been worst. Muu was far away – _Solomon knew where_ – to conquer a dungeon and there was no guarantee he would ever return– _despite the Great Priestess claim_. The situation was thus in standby, the king still pondering over the good decision. _Muu had been ousted without even knowing and neither Scheherazade nor Himalia had a saying in the king's decision_. To top it all off, although Reim was in a critical condition, Himalia had taken the liberty of leaving _Remano_ without informing Scheherazade. _What a mess_.

"What are we doing here? We should go back to Remano and try to convince his Highness that Muu-san is the perf–"

"It is pointless to try and interfere in his Highness's choice. We may be entirely devoted to lady Scheherazade, you shall not – _never_ – forget that the person who is actually ruling the country is not the Great Priestess but his Highness."

Little Noor lowered her head, ashamed to be reminded something so simple, so obvious. She heard Himalia's exhausted sigh, but did not see the frightened glint that lighted her eyes. Hastily recomposing herself, the woman folded her arms, hiding her quavering hands in her sleeves. Himalia had to be strong. Little Noor had been greatly affected by Alva's death, it was a fact. _But it was also nothing compared to Himalia's pain_. The woman had knew her partner for _decades_. Long before their ascent to the position of _Chief-Advisor_. Alva had been a son of nobody, an orphan, a child of slums; Himalia had been a pampered child, a little princess, one of the four heiress of the Peyrus family. They shared nothing, had nothing in common, their meeting shouldn't even have occurred in the first place. _Yet, it had_. _They had met and befriended each other_. Was it fate? _Obviously_.

Fate had bounded their destiny. They had met in the street, _they lost touch with each other_ and met again in the Imperial Palace. Children who had nothing in common had been linked to each other by fate. _And Himalia had loved Alva_. It had been strictly platonic of course, but during a long time, before little Noor's arrival, he had been her everything. _A father, a brother, a sister, a mother, a lover_. Her only family. As stupid as it could sound, Alva had been her _home_. People have tendencies to strictly define home as a place you feel comfortable in, a sanctuary in a way. _Alva had been her sanctuary_. He had been her home, the only person she had felt comfortable with. _She had loved Alva from the bottom of her heart_. And whether it was in a romantic way or not did not change the deepness of her feelings.

" _You're weak, Noor_."

Himalia scratched her hands inside her sleeves at the helpless expression that settled on her little ward's face.

"The one you are right now is not able to protect our country, _my country_. In this cruel world we're living in, strength is the only thing that matters. The strongest rules the world."

"But you said–"

 _Was it normal to feel her heart ache this way?_

"I was wrong. I want you to become strong. Alva is dead, Young master Muu could be dead as well and I could meet an early demise tomorrow. _You have to be strong_ , strong enough to support this country on your own."

 _She felt like throwing up_.

"You're weak."

Burying her remorse, her pain deep within her chest, Himalia scowled at her apprentice, disregarding her shaky legs and her pale face. _It was necessary_. Alva had died. She would not let this child die as well. As foolish, dangerous and crazy this could be, she would stay loyal to her dead friend and accomplish his last wishes.

"Do you remember Alva's last words, Noor?"

 _The kid did. How couldn't she?_

"Then _go_. Go face up to your fate. Go and prove fate that you are worth living. Go get stronger."

 _She loved her_. As much as Alva had loved her when he was alive, Himalia loved this child _from the bottom of her heart_. And because she loved her so much, she would let her run serious risks just for the sake of getting stronger. _This little ward of hers was strong_. Little Noor would live. _It was her fate_.

"I love you, Himalia."

 _I know._

" _Go_."

Silently, Himalia watched the child run ahead of her, heading toward the towering edifice several meters in front of them. _She would succeed_. Himalia was neither idiot nor ignorant. _A fanalis?_ Fanalis did not irradiate _magoi_ like this kid. They did not attract _rukhs_ like this kid. _Who was she? Where did she come from?_ The unmistakable red eyes and hair were enough to deem her a part of the fanalis race. Yet, fanalis had barely enough magoi to be seen by outward eyes like hers. Even the young master Muu who was half-blood possessed a so ridiculous quantity of magoi that Himalia had been doubtful on his ability to conquer a dungeon. _Then, who was this kid? What was she?_ It didn't really matter. The thing that saddened Himalia the most was the fact that she wouldn't even be able to welcome her little kit back. Her time had reached its end. With Alva's death, it was time for her to retire. And… she hadn't even been able to tell her how much she loved her.

" _I'm so sorry. I hope you will forgive me someday. You know how secretive this old woman is after all_."

She chuckled. A tired, bitter, breathless sound. And she turned on her heels, facing her so beloved country from afar one last time. _My apologies, Lady Scheherazade. You knew this day would come, didn't you? Ah, I feel so worn out. May Reim stay strong. Farewell, you Highness. Farewell, my Lady. Farewell… little one_.

 _Himalia died alone, at the eastern boarder of Reim Empire. 2 days later, Ren Koutoku, the late Emperor Hakutoku's brother, was announced Emperor._

* * *

 **Grief**

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ I know I said only once a month but I have all these chapters ready and it frustrates me to no end not being able to post it. However, I will not rush anymore since it takes a lot of time to find all the mistakes I can and erase them. That said, there will be two more chapters before the story reaches its real beginning.

Aside from that, the first chapters are really short but the rest will be longer. The introduction is quite long though, and too eventful, one chapter can't be enough.

As for the characters, Alva's death was planned since the very first words, sad but needed. Oh, and if you guys didn't guess, Himalia's a magician, that's why she can see rukhs and some other things as well that will be explained later on in the story. Muu's reappearence is not for now. And I think that's it for the original characters, aside for one who'll be introduced later in the story. RIP to Alva Vernagos and Himalia Peyrus whose life lasted 2 chapters.

That said, Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy New Year by the way!


	4. Long-awaited Ripeness

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter IV: Long-awaited ripeness

* * *

 **Resurgence**

* * *

 _Dear Journal,_

 _In compliance with my predecessor wishes, I am now recording in a journal my experiences. According to my predecessor's claims, it is supposed to help the future generations in their task._

 _First of all, my name is Noor Peyrus. I have been adopted at the age of 7 by two people named Alva Vernagos and Himalia Peyrus, the preceding generation of Chief-Advisors. I have no memories, whether be it my name or be it the place I come from. I have been trained by both advisors to take their role on after their passing. Actually, that is quite inexact. I have been trained to be Himalia's successor. Alva had fixed on his post for someone else._

 _Several days after Alva Vernagos's passing, in accordance with his last wishes, I found myself in my first life-risking situation. I went to the hundred-stories Tower, an edifice located at the eastern tip of Reim. I discovered months after only, that it was a dungeon. Well, when it had been months for the world outside, it had not been more than a few hours for me…_

* * *

Her knees buckled and she fell flat on the ground, her elbow twisting when it collided with the ground. A loud crack echoed in the vast room, followed by a muffled cry. She rolled on her stomach, pain erupting in her elbow. _Broken_. Carefully getting back to her feet, she hissed when she felt a jolt of pain in her elbow. _Broken indeed_. With an infinite precaution, she ripped her slacks' fabric, cautiously wrapping it around her sore elbow. She groaned at the tightness of the makeshift bandage. A shameful work, but it was all she could do right now. She exhaled deeply, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. _The hundred-stories Tower_. As impressive as she thought it to be. She was actually in the middle of a large hall. There wasno furniture and the walls were painted in several shades of purple. There were no openings, let it be a door or even a trapdoor. The room was empty and there was no indication of what she was supposed to do. She frowned, anger bubbling in her stomach.

She had come so far, she would not be stopped by such a ridiculous obstacle. To fulfill wholly Alva's wish, she would conquer the 100 stories and come back to Reim as the strongest advisor the empire had never seen. Was it pride? _Frustration_? _Whim_? It didn't matter. As long as she kept getting stronger, as long as she brought a useful power to the Great Priestess, then it didn't matter. She was Noor Peyrus, member of the Peyrus family. Said family had never approved her admission in their closed circle, but she didn't care. Her position now prevented them from doing anything reckless or kicking her out. To thank the benefactress who had offered her such a nice existence, the least she could do was acquiring an undeniable strength, just for her sake. _And for the old man who had died so weary…_

She took a step forward, right in her fate's direction. And appearing of nowhere, a bolt of lightning struck right in front of her, barely letting her the time to jump down. She choked with her saliva, legs nearly buckling. _Luck_. She had dodged a mortal wound thanks to her enhanced reflexes but above all, because of her lucky star. She mentally thanked the mighty king Solomon for his benevolence and the god of punishment – she really had no idea why she was worshiping him in the first place when everybody was so engrossed in King Solomon, but she did anyway because, well, was it wrong to worship two gods? – the _Great Lord Vessavana_ , or _Bishamonten_ as Mircela – who was this Mircela person already? – was calling him when she was still alive. _Beria_. She pushed the intrusive thought aside. Right now was not the moment to get lost in thought.

She bent her knees, body ready to receive another salvo. But even after 5 minutes of total immobility, none came. Instead, a " _pop_ " echoed in the room and a blue substance suddenly emerged from the floor, slowly gliding in her direction. She tensed up, ready to fight whatever waited for her next. But the weird substance came to a halt in front of her and stilled. Then, it seemed to come to life again and raised in the air rapidly. What was an undefinable form vaguely took human features. The arms appeared first, so thin that they seemed to be ready to detach themselves at the first blast of air. A torso formed next, as skinny as the arms. The head formed at last. The face was almost impossible to discern, covered in bandages except for the mouth. _Impossible to say what expression wore… this thing_. Their hair were steam of ebony curls descending on their hips and they didn't wear any clothes except of white bouffant pants. Yet despite their shorter height, they still managed to look down on her.

" _Who dares to disrupt this gravestone?_ "

She stilled. They wore a blindfold and weren't even looking in her direction, but she had the distinct impression that they were looking straight through her. She shivered, sweat trickling down her forehead. Maybe if she didn't move, if she stopped breathing just for a few minutes, just till their departure, then–

" _Whoever reaches the Eden will be rewarded with the Power of King. However, will fail the one who will not be able to stand the beauty's true sight. Show you worthy of my chance, my prospective King_."

Lightning sparkled anew in the large hall and she jumped backward, narrowly avoiding a lethal electrocution. When she looked back at the spot where the odd creature should have been, they had disappeared. She frowned, finding herself alone in the large room one more time. She took a careful step forward and stood still when the ground started trembling. The walls started to move and an opening formed itself right in front of her. She could see stairs through it.

" _Now, fight for Eden, my prospective King._ " Whispered the creature's voice in her ears.

She exhaled deeply, exhorting herself to serenity. Now was not the time to be afraid.

* * *

… _what I had not anticipated, were the trials that waited for me at each floor. I prayed Himalia to hear my thanks each time I was succeeding in the trial. The topics were complicated matters, most of them being interrogation on the world history. Throughout my ascent, I went pass unidentifiable corps, all of them undoubtedly burnt to death by electrocution. Eventually, after what seemed like_ _ **days**_ _of ascend, I reached the top. The hundred-stories Tower, huh? What a swindling. The truth was, that what seemed the top to me was only…_

* * *

" _Congratulation, my prospective King. It seems like your knowledge overcame the hundred-stories. However… you have failed_."

Her blood went cold. _Failed?_ But she had climbed up the hundreds stories, like he had asked to. How could she have failed? _How the hell could sh_ – _Oh_. Her legs gave up beneath her and she fell on the floor, dread sinking in her chest. _A gravestone_. How much more rash could she have been? Even in Pyramids, gravestones never found themselves at the top. She had been deceived by ' _Eden_ '. How much more sly could this creature have been? The hundred floors did not exist. The numbers of stairs and where they lead were created by the person who accepted the challenge. If she had not been deluded by Reim's people claims, then… It was the challenger who created his own challenge.

"The ' _beauty's true sight_ ', huh?" She mumbled, fist tightening with frustration. "In other words, my own perception of things. How much more of an idiot have I been?"

She sighed, tiredness overriding adrenaline. _She was so tired_. Tired of trying but failing. Tired of being ungrateful. Tired of losing people she loved. Tired of _being so weak_. So tired of _– Will you listen to this old man last wishes?_ Tired of giving up without doing her best. Moved by an unknown desire, she jumped on her feet, gazing straight at the silent being. Grinding her teeth, she raised her hand and slammed her fist against her chest, not blinking an eye despite the pain.

"My name is Noor Peyrus and you have in front of you Reim Empire's most splendid bud. I am still young and inexperienced but watch me _!_ I'll bloom and will become the beauty's embodiment."

Ignoring her words, the creature raised his hand, lightning sparking around his fingers. She narrowed her eyes, raising her hand as well. She felt oddly serene. _No fear_. _No wrath_. _No regret_. The creature extended his arm in her direction and lighting sprang, piercing right through her chest. She gasped breathlessly, pain erupting in her chest. She felt her legs buckle and an eerie grin stretched her lips. If she was going to stake it all, she might as well do it completely.

" _ **Become my servant, Beleth!**_ "

Her bottom collided with the floor and she yelped in pain, rolling into a ball to ease the pain. Shaking with pain, she slowly raised her eyes. The creature – _Beleth_ – was there, looking down on her. She bit her lips hard enough to draw blood. _Unharmed_. Her words had been totally useless.

" _I shall reward your ever-misplaced fierceness… dear King_."

He smiled. And she felt strangely nostalgic, sorrow bubbling in her chest. Then, his form became turdy and he exploded in smoke. Where he had once been, stood an earring. Twice her hand's size – smaller than her head, though – it was triangular, a silver buckle at each end. At the center of the triangle, a familiar pentagram. She choked.

" _Oh my god_."

How much more oblivious could she have been? _The mysterious edifice, the promise of power, the trial, the creature…_

" _Oh my god_."

 _She had conquered a dungeon_.

* * *

 **Acquisition**

* * *

… _I had lost myself in my own delusions. I felt no pride in my achievement. Shame and dread were the only feelings battling in my chest. Shame because I had forgotten Himalia's teaching, lost in my greed of strength. Dread because I was no fool and fanalis do not conquer dungeons. Wielding a Djinn requires magoi. And fanalis barely have enough magoi to sustain themselves. There was only one answer possible, the one I feared the most. Like Muu-san and Myron, I was no full-blood fanalis_ _. **But Half-Breed.** It raised questions I did not wish to answer. Up to this moment, I had always thought that seeking my parents was useless. I had been a slave myself at some point, my begetters could have been nothing but dead. Discovering my interbreeding changed the perspectives. If one of my parent was no fanalis… then who was he? Where was he? …where was I from…?_

* * *

 _Living in Reim without my mentor was like being left to your own devices on the high seas when you could barely swim. For a long time, 4 years to be exact, a rumor went round saying that I had murdered Himalia in order to acquire her position. It had hurt at first. Hearing people say that you murdered the only person – apart from Alva – you considered family isn't pleasant. But Lady Scheherazade lent me her full support and eventually, the rumors finally died down. As the newly appointed closest counsellor to the Great Priestess, my first task was to make sure that the relationships Himalia had forged with several countries were not broken. Of course, my first destination was…_

* * *

Everything was so much different that she almost had trouble to recognize this place she had visited several years ago. _The people_. _The layout_. _The atmosphere_. There wasn't this intimidating feeling that lingered in the air anymore. _No_. The ambiance was giving her goosebumps. It felt like thousands of eyes were watching her, preying on her, waiting for her to take a wrong step. It felt uncomfortable. _And unpleasant_.

"This Noor humbly salute you, _Emperor Koutoku_."

Had Himalia felt that nervous the first time she had visited Kou? _No_. It was different, beyond a doubt. Ren Koutoku was… nothing like his brother. And there was a lingering odor of blood and rot floating around him. Every human being possesses his own scent. Alva reeked gunpowder and smoke– most likely because he loved to play with bombs. Himalia smelt the sandpaper and the old books– the time spent in her study, obviously. Scheherazade's scent was more of medicinal plants and a stifling cadaver's odor– because of her body's changing or whatever. Most of them were not agreeable, but not really disagreeable. Parasitic without really being disturbing. Ren Koutoku's scent however, was completely unbearable. His fragrance filled the room and covered every other.

"Cut the sweet talk, _girly_. If ya' wanna somethin', then say it already."

 _Barbaric_. _Rash_. _Foolish_. She raised her head, dispelling every emotion from her face. Briefly, her eyes darted to the right, where the two imperial princes stood. Hair as red as their father, the two brother stood frozen. The elder one, _Ren Kouen_ possessed a roughish, sharp-featured face with an obvious handsomeness. Next to him, _Ren Koumei_ was… different? He looked like he had been thrown out of bed directly in this gathering. Obviously less handsome than his brother – well, he was _not easy to the eyes_ to say the truth – he did _not_ look _at all_ like an imperial prince. No comparison with _Ren Hakutoku_ and his two sons. She exhaled deeply, carefully choosing her words. She had to get on his good side if she wanted to stay here and build a relationship with Reim. She opened her mouth, arguments ready and–

" _Oya?_ What do we have here?"

She whirled around, eyes widening with surprise. _She did not expect that_. Not this person. _Not right now_. Mind running wildly, she stiffly observed the newcomer, _the woman_ , strutting in the room, a dazzling smile adorning her lips. Little Noor struggled in keeping her composure intact when _Ren Gyokuen_ 's eyes fixed upon her. A mild surprise crossed her features when she noticed her and she affectionately patted her head, like she'd do with a pet.

" _My_ , I remember you. You're Himalia's cute little ward, are you not? _Noor_ , was it?"

 _A blessing on its own_. She suppressed a sigh of relief, concealing her excitement into professionalism. With _Ren Gyokuen_ 's presence, she had an anchoring in Kou. The woman knew her, better yet _she knew Himalia_. The only thing she had to focus on now, was working her way to the emperor through the woman. _As sly and swindling it could be_. One look toward the new emperor ensured her that everyone was following the interaction closely.

" _Lady Gyokuen_." She slowly greeted her, faintly bowing her head. "This Noor is greatly pleased to see that a person of your stature remembers the face of a commoner." _Serve her sweet words to breach through her guard_.

Ren Gyokuen giggled at her antics, hand affectionately patting her head. Little Noor observed her closely and her heart almost stopped when Gyokuen offered her a knowing smile behind her sleeves. Her hands felt clammy and she struggled in keeping her composure intact. Notwithstanding Himalia's teaching, instead of controlling the conversation's flow, she felt like the cornered animal ready to be devoured at each passing seconds. She pressed her lips tightly when in a graceful movement, the late empress whirled around, zeroing in her attention on the newly appointed Emperor.

"How come are you welcoming her in such an uncouth way? Are you trying to get the world's strongest military force against you? I would have never thought you _that_ bold, _Emperor_."

Little Noor suppressed a bewildered look. _Now, that was suspicious_. Why would the empress – _late empress, she sternly reminded herself_ – back her up in her undertaking? No, what could she possibly obtain from giving her a helping hand? As much as Himalia trusted the woman, little Noor couldn't bring herself to trust anyone. _Notwithstanding her support, she didn't trust Scheherazade_. With a breathless sigh, she decided to assess the situation quietly. If the woman was determinate to help her, the little advisor would not complain.

"Why would a' spare deh' brat me' valued time?"

 _At that, Gyokuen gasped exaggeratedly_.

"Would you not spare Himalia's ward a bit of your time? _How unsightly_."

Soft gasps echoed across the rooms. And panicky whispered raised, the words " _Reim_ " and " _Advisor_ " coming back several times in the conversations. Little Noor felt suddenly self-conscious, gazes weighing on her. _And yet, she had specified her rank in the letter she had sent the emperor beforehand_. She almost started when the Emperor finally turned his attention her way, a predatory smile stretching his lips.

"De' old-hag's pupil, _huh_? Why didn't ye' tell it sooner, _girly_?"

 _This mission notwithstanding its incongruity was a success_.

" _It would have wrecked the pleasure, wouldn't it_?"

* * *

… _according to Lady Gyokuen, I had made an impression on the emperor, therefore he had allowed me to remain in Kou. I met various people the following days, all of them noblemen eager to forge a bond with me in order to have more influence within Kou. Not that these approaches could work on me_ , _anyway_.

* * *

" _Are you planning on leaving us already?"_

Little Noor jerked at the woman's voice, furrowing her eyebrows with irritation. She had spent 3 days in Kou so far and every day, the woman had appeared this fashion, succeeding in startling her. Ren Gyokuen chuckled at her antics, a warm smile stretching her lips and Noor turned her head away from the woman. The day before, Gyokuen had confessed that she was acting that way because her reactions were similar to Himalia's. But for Noor, her mentor's – _almost mother's_ – name was hard to hear. She closed her eyes briefly – _just for the sake of her sanity_ – then opened them, face blank, devoid of her inner turmoil.

" _Lady Gyokuen_ , good morning to you _too_." _Bitterness, was it? She had to keep her feelings in check_. "I don't intend to leave Kou _so early_. There are still a lot of things I have yet to see." _The emperor had yet to agree with the nonaggression pact she had suggested_. "It would be a shame should I leave the country without bringing back souvenirs with me. And Lady Myron would be woebegone should I head back home empty-handed." _Not that Myron would actually care_.

Speaking of Myron, she had not seen the child since the last time she had gone to the Alexius Estate, at least 3 weeks ago. Unlike with Muu, they were roughly the same age. Myron was her junior from 2 or 3 years, more or less. When they hadn't gotten along at all in the first place, thanks to Muu's persistence in getting them closer, they were now friends. _Kind of_. _Not really_. _By no means_. Acquaintances was good. She snapped out of her thoughts when the empress – _late empress she reminded herself harshly_ – giggled, waving her sleeves.

"So young yet so serious. _Ah,_ Himalia taught you well, didn't she?" _She cringed, reacting to the name of her beloved substitute of a mother_. "Now, for all the time you've remained here, you haven't meet any of my children, have you?"

Little Noor stiffened, thoughts drifting to the late _Prince Hakuyuu_ and his rowdy little brother, _Hakuren_. She had not stayed in Kou long enough to consider both of them as friends, nevertheless she respected them. Hakuyuu, for the short she had known him, had seemed wise, rational and firm. Hakuren had been offensive, inexperienced but promising nonetheless. Hakuren had once made mention of two younger siblings, a girl and a babyboy but she had never seen them. _Ren Hakuei_ and _Rei Hakuryuu_. (" _Remember every name, friends and foes alike._ ")

" _I have not_. It would be an honor my lady to finally be introduced to your flesh and blood."

(" _ **Never falter**_. _No matter the situation, never falter._ ")

* * *

… _as for the Imperial family, my meetings with the Emperor's various children were… entertaining_.

* * *

" _Oï_. Pledge me allegiance."

She sweatdropped at the man in front of her. There was a rumor running round saying that the first Imperial Prince was a haughty, demanding and uncaring man, but to think that he would demand her to swear allegiance to him when she had barely stepped a foot in his study – _and was not even a citizen of this country_ – was _way_ beyond her expectations. Blinking at the older man, she slowly approached his desk. Ren Kouen was… _exactly how she had imagined him to be_. In his character, that is. Quietly, she grabbed her left fist with her right hand and bowed firstly to the fist Imperial Prince who was facing her, then his younger brother and finally the youngest son. _Ren Kouen, Ren Koumei and Ren Kouha_. The royalty had a strange naming sense, _she mused internally_.

"I humbly refuse." She responded quietly, suppressing a smile at the youngest's outraged shout.

Not that it seemed to surprise to anyone – _apart from Ren Kouha who seemed mortified that someone had dared to refuse one of his brother's command_ (not that she would ever say it aloud, but it was rather cute). She had come all the way from Reim to Kou because she loved her country. Ditching it to join Ren Kouen whom she hadn't even known for more than half a minute? _Inconceivable_.

"Either way," spoke up the second imperial Prince, half of his face hidden behind his fan and skillfully ignoring his younger brother's rant, "it is nice to finally make your acquaintance, _Lady Peyrus_."

 _She retched_. Skillfully maneuvering her sleeves in front of her face, pretending embarrassment, she vainly tried to soothe her pounding heart. _How pathetic_. Reacting so strongly to a name that wasn't hers, because _she was not_ 'Lady Peyrus', _Himalia was_ and she was only a _pale imitation_. Tears gathered in her eyelids and she exhaled deeply, trying to get rid of the ill-timed moisture. Now _was not_ the moment to become emotional. She closed her eyes tightly, " _ **Never falter**_ _. No matter the situation never falter_ " playing in her head like a mantra. And then, her mind finally focused on the situation at hand and she lowered her sleeves, a polite smile stretching her lips.

"Shared pleasure, I assure yo–"

To her utter horror, her voice broke. She fell silent, lips twitching with the urge to cry – _she had_ _ **never**_ _cried over Himalia's death, why would she now?_ _ **Why now?**_ Her eyes fell on the floor and she stilled, fearing that the least movement would make her break down and cry like she never had. _Not now. Not now. Not now_.

' _Gently, little one.' Came a soft, soothing voice._

 _ **Beleth**_ _._

A wry smile stretched a lips. She had been… _hopeless_ when it came to Djinn equipping at first. She was _low_ on magoi and had trouble in controlling it. _Try and control something that demands delicacy when you have an increased tenfold strength_. Two years had barely been enough for her to succeed in achieving her _Weapon Equip_. _For 2 minutes_. Nobody in Reim had conquered a dungeon yet and Muu was still absent. No one, even Scheherazade could provide her any help in djinn mastery. The only one who could help her was… _Beleth himself_. And gradually, he had made his voice heard more and more every day.

' _You shall accept these feelings and not reject them. Denial is the sorest grief_.'

She had no idea what this creature – _man she corrected herself_ – had gone through. But she had been taught how to discern the truth from lies. And these words held nothing but absolute truthfulness. She briefly closed her eyes, a wave of calm surging through her veins. _Probably Beleth's doing_. She pressed her lips tightly, suppressing a grateful smile. _He was right_. She would cry her heart out after these negotiations. She would lament, mourn and cry her eyes out. Then go through a period of mourning. And finally, like she had done with Mircela, she would get over Himalia's death, little by little, step-by-step. She raised her eyes towards the imperial princes, ignoring their startled faces – well, _except for Kouen who was still emotionless_. And for the first time in what seemed like years, she smiled, a genuine smile.

" _Himalia Peyrus was an incredible woman, wasn't she?_ "

 _Farewell, Alva. Farewell, Himalia_.

* * *

 **Ripening**

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ First of all, there's one thing on which I need you guys to help me. At some point, there're these sentences : " _I had been a slave myself at some point, my begetters could have been nothing but dead. Discovering my interbreeding changed the perspectives. If one of my parent was no fanalis… then who was he? Where was he? …where was I from…?"_

Well, here's my problem: The french equivalent for 'he' is 'il'. But in a few situations, 'il' can be used in an asexual way. Like for example, the relative she does not know the gender of can be refered to with 'il'. What's the english equivalent for this situation if there's one? I couldn't find it. So if you guys have any idea... Yup!

Aside from that, not much on this chapter but nonsensical things. Well, not nonsensical but the pace is so slow I feel like the story is not progressing; it frustrates even me! But well, that's the kind of story I prefer anyway.

Yeah, by the way, someone asked me about Gyokuen. I know that usually, character see right through her, but come on, the woman is like the master of concealment ! She's charismatic, cunning AND well, Gyoku-ish. There's no way in hell the naive and preconceived idea-ed ( _Sorry for this non really english sentence, but WELL_ ) Noor could figure her out. So yeah, be prepared, Gyokuen will play a major role in the character's developement and in a GOOD light. I kinda like Gyokuen. Well, not really the character because she's an evil witch and stuff and who likes her anyway? But the charater's design is awesome! Deep characters like her are the best! Well, too much rambling and not enough informations.

By the way, for the one who are expecting this helpless Noor to master her Djinn in two chapters and kick everyone's ass... you should sit down. It will take, like, more than 10 chapters to be able to do something else than waste her magoi uselessly. Yeeeesh, she's such a pain in the-

Well, that's it? Best wishes for the New Year! Now, I think we're good.

Huggies ~


	5. He Came out of Nowhere

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter V: He came out of nowhere

* * *

 **Hallow**

* * *

 _She had turned eighteen last month_. Gradually, she had gotten used to her life as an advisor. And Himalia's presence had faded. She was not seeing the woman in books, words and clothes anymore, like she used to. She had grown accustomed to Muu's absence as well and to her duties. She had become the advisor Alva and Himalia had wished her to be. _Or so she hoped_. She creased her eyebrows at the scroll she was studying. Absently, her hand brushed her spectacles' frame. She had grown used to wear them as well. _A fanalis wearing eyeglasses_. Myron had laughed to death the day she had arrived at the Alexius's Estate with her freshly-made glasses. Not that she really needed them on daily basis, but they were necessary when she had, like at this moment, her nose buried in scrolls. A tired yawn escaped her mouth and she rubbed her eyes to make the sleepiness disappear.

The sky was already dark outside and the city's bustle had died down. At this hour, the Coliseum was the only thing that could cause excitement. Her everyday life was surprisingly… _dull_. The only things she had to care about were the country's economics and politics. The international relationships were her responsibilities as well, but except for the security-risking matters, she did not need to interact with foreign countries more than necessary. These scrolls she was studying intently – reports about the security's breach one of Alva's last experiment (a bomb obviously), that he had realized in his lifetime, had created – were the only thing that could keep her busy. With a breathless sigh, she rolled up the scroll, deciding to call it a day. Quietly, she left her study silently greeting the still-working maids.

Living in the Peyrus estate was entertaining. It was like a _hide-and-go-seek_ game she was playing with the elders every day. None of them wanted her in the Peyrus family and they were eager to kick her out. Fortunately, _Sharah Peyrus_ , actual head of the Peyrus family and Himalia's sister had been kind enough to let her remain as a member of the Peyrus family. Everyone was ignoring her but she didn't care, these people were not family nor friends. Himalia was. _Had been_. She heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair. _They had grown_. Maybe a bit too much. She didn't really care about her hair, but as a privileged advisor, she had to maintain appearances. She suppressed a tired yawn. Already 6 years since Alva and Himalia's death, as well as Muu's disappearance. Maybe it was time to accept that he would never come back, like the king did. _Someone else had already replaced him as the Great Priestess's closest advisor. Not that Scheherazade trusted him in any way_. Maybe it was time for Myron, who still believed in her brother's return, to accept that he would never come back. Maybe it was time for them to forget the older brother Muu had been. Maybe it was time to turn over a new leaf.

" _Noor_." Came a soft, smooth yet knowing voice.

Noor stilled, instantly recognizing the familiar tone. A shiver ran down her spine when she turned round, gaze meeting the actual head of the Peyrus family. _Sharah Peyrus_ looked so much like Himalia that it was almost painful to look at her. Her hair were nearly as fair as Himalia's, maybe a shade darker. Her eyes, Havana brown, seemed to be piercing right through her soul. Her smile was frozen and if Himalia had seemed wise but sharp-tongued, Sharah was snide, hiding her true self behind innocent features. 2 years older than Himalia, her crinkly smile could give _Ren Koutoku_ 's smirk a run for its money.

" _Lady Sharah_ , good evening. I didn't think someone would still be up at this hour. My apologies, did I wake you up?"

Sharah's _smile_ widened.

"Of course not, _dear_. Something came up and my assistance is required. Why are _you_ still up? It is late, you should head back to your room."

The fanalis shuddered, lightly nodding her head. She knew a dismissal when she heard one. Sharah Peyrus truly was a frightening woman. Different from Himalia and with less knowledge but as dangerous if not more. Noor bowed lightly to the woman, then went past her without a look behind. She felt Sharah's heavy eyes on her until she reached the stairs of the east section. She collapsed on her bed without even taking off her clothes when she reached her bedroom and took off her spectacles, blindly throwing them in her nightstand's direction. She buried her head into her pillow to muffle her frustrated groans. Eighteen and yet, she was already feeling so tired. _So worn out_. She closed her eyes, closing off her mind to prevent intrusive thoughts from filling her mind. Without even realizing, she drifted off.

She awoke with a start after what seemed like only a few minutes. The sun was already raising and the sunrays were dazzling her. She huffed and got out of bed, halfheartedly brushing her hair. She approached the mirror and one look at her reflection confirmed her disheveled state. She grunted when someone knocked at the door and blankly stared at the two maids who entered her room. One of them giggled at her deadpan expression and the other, ignoring her discomfort, slid in her back as nimbly as a ninja. Noor huffed once more when the ninja-like maid tugged on her clothes without even letting her time to protest.

" _Rise and shine_ , Lady Noor." The maid still at the door cheerfully exclaimed, throwing the clothes she was carrying in the bed's direction. "How come are you always up before our arrival? Lady Noor's sleepy face _must_ be so endearing! _Yaaa~_ I wish I could see that." She gushed exaggeratedly, rubbing her cheeks with her palms.

Noor only sighed at her personal maid's behavior, wincing when the one still in her back almost tore her clothing apart. These two _freaks_ – and there was no other word to describe them – had been assigned to her 3 years ago. She had tried to dismiss them on several occasions. _Without success_. And gradually, she had grown accustomed to their oddness. _Yana'_ s exuberance and _Maia_ 's apathy.

"What is today's program?" She asked quietly, looking at Yana who was pulling off the bed-linen.

The blond-haired maid smile brightly, almost ripping the sheets with excitement.

"First task of the day: you _have_ to pay _Lord_ _Naseem_ a visit. He was asking for you yesterday but you had already retired to your study. I guess he wants to court you a little more." She giggled at Noor's disgusted expression. "Then you have to go to the Coliseum: there is this shady affair with this foreign merchant out of the soldiers' jurisdiction. He is from _Balbadd_ if I remember correctly. Then, you have an audience with the Great Priestess. And finally, you wished to pay a visit to Lady Myron at the Alexius's Estate. And if you have time m'lady, you can fool around with Maia and me."

Said Maia snorted at the suggestion and at the same time, undid her dress's last lace which fell on her feet. _It was a daily occurrence_. The two maids had been helping her to dress up every day for 3 years. Yet, it still didn't ease the embarrassment she felt each time Yana squealed when saw her bare body. She cleared her throat awkwardly, gazing through the window whilst Maia – finally helped by Yana – forcefully helped her to slip on her outfit for the day. Surprisingly, the advisors were rather free, concerning their way of dressing. Noor had never worn a dress for the 6 years she had been advisor and no one had never cared. She winced when Yana started to brush her hair. None of the two maids knew how to be delicate. Their rowdiness might have been what had prompted Sharah to entrust her with them. Not that anyone would've wanted them, anyway.

"There, all ready for the day!" Yana exclaimed with a last brush-up that nearly snatched her a tuft of hair.

Their lack of delicacy was _astounding_. She heaved a sigh of relief when the two maids finally left her sides to admire their work. If she had to be honest, it was only thanks to these two she could still have a proper appearance. Yana beamed at her when Maia only huffed and in less than a minute, the two were storming off, Yana yelling something about how her breakfast should be ready before her departure. She collapsed on her bead, eyes closing, sprawling on the mattress. These two were such a handful. They could snatch her energy without trying, fanalis or not.

* * *

 **Amenable**

* * *

Her eyebrows furrowed but she pressed her lips firmly, suppressing a sardonic booing. Wordlessly, she kept walking at the fool's side, ignoring the curious eyes following them. The man next to her was whistling cheerfully without a care in the world, hands nonchalantly shoved in his pockets. She suppressed a sigh, eyes unwillingly following an old woman who was carrying a basket full of pomegranate. Her arms were shaking with effort and she was staggering dangerously. Around her, every other trader seemed to be busy with their own reserves.

Momentarily forgetting the man next to her, she made a bolt for the old woman, forcing people to sidestep from her way. As an advisor, her work was to make sure that every citizen of Remano could live peacefully. Contrary to what a lot of people thought, advisors didn't only cared about noblemen and the upper class. Alva, when he was still alive, had listened to every demand, be it noblemen or poor workers.

" _Gran!_ " She called out informally, stopping in front of her. She gently grasped the basket. "Let me carry it. Where are you heading to?"

The old woman scrunched her nose distastefully.

"Popping up of nowhere right in the people's face, _you rude kid_." The old woman bit back grumpily. "Have some manners, brat. You want to help me? Help you manners first."

The fanalis gasped and the old woman huffed rudely, scowling at her.

"This way, brat. I don't want to become dry in the middle of the street."

She huffed once more, then rapidly headed toward her covered stall, grumbling about youngster and their lack of manners. Noor blinked at the old woman. With a breathless sigh, she followed her suit, rolling her eyes when the old shopkeeper complained about how youngster these days were too worried about how to find a wife rather than run a stall.

"With 19 summer, it is only natural that your son tries to start a family. He worries about you, _Gran_ , but he won't live his whole life as your precious son. Moreover, I think you should accept _The Cat_ 's proposition. You're growing old. You won't be able to take care of your stall anymore, you know. How about a retirement?"

She smiled at the old woman, trying to appease her. Unaffected by her tirade, the old shopkeeper gave a harsh glare that made her wince. She tried a sheepish smile but the old woman huffed and ripped the basket off of her hands. Noor blinked at the old woman who forced out a smile and grumbled a halfhearted " _thanks_ " before departing. The fanalis smiled warmly, waving her goodbye.

"Talk to your son, _Gran_!" She called out, giggling at the insult she received in return.

" _Wow_ , Granny here's grumpy." Came a deep, faint and hoarse voice behind her. "You're really patient, you know. What's with the rude attitude?"

She rolled her eyes.

" _Naseem_. You didn't drag me here against my will to blend in the crowd and do some sightseeing, did you? What did you want to investigate on?"

 _Naseem Reija_ had arrived in Reim 4 years ago. At that time, the King had officially announced _Muu Alexius's death_ and countless people had rushed to Scheherazade's feet, begging her to choose Muu's successor. At the same time, the _steering_ _committee_ that took care of the legislative affairs and advised the king, had recommended the _Ameer Al-Del Stavros_ 's son for the position. Prince of an archipelago to the south of Balbadd, the Ameer was an ambassador whose presence in Remano was supposed to solidify the relationship between the _Ajam_ _Islands_ and _Reim_. For political and diplomatic reasons, the King had accepted.

Naseem had thus replaced Muu provided he became a citizen of Reim and never left the country. The Ameer had not hesitated and whilst he had left for the Ajam Islands, his son had stayed in Reim to fulfill his duty as an advisor. Naturally, she had been the one to help him to get accustomed to his duties. _With distaste_. He was a pampered prince and she was a former slave. _Preconceptions were unavoidable_. Scheherazade did not trust him in any way and restricted their meetings to the bare minimum: he was not her King Vessel, _not Muu_ , and she couldn't bring herself to trust him. Myron despised him as well, but for different reasons: he was the man who had replaced her brother. Moreover, she was sure that somewhere outside, Muu was still alive and would come back. This man was a hindrance to Muu's hypothetical return.

"You're always so perceptive, aren't you? Or maybe just good at figuring me out. Anyway," he gave boyish grin, raising an eyebrow when she gave him a flat stare, "Yana let you know about the Balbadd's merchant, didn't she?"

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows when he smiled smugly.

"Then, how about investigating?" He beamed, clapping his hands with enthusiasm.

She sighed, cursing him under her breath. _Of course_. For all his so-called princely upbringing, Naseem was nothing but a fool. The man, _boy_ , was as happy-go-lucky as Alva had been during his lifetime. Already 16 and yet, he still behaved like a brat and in his eyes, his duties were nothing but games. She breathed deeply, begging Solomon to give her patience enough to deal with this _child_.

"Naseem, he's hiding in the _Coliseum_. Our authority is null within its walls. And," she ignored him when he whined pitifully, "I am saying that because I have experienced it. Toto wouldn't let me in and attacked me until I sneaked in the _Parliament Houses_ to hide. The only one accepted within the Coliseum are fighters and their employer."

"Ah, then what about–"

She cut him off. "We will not pretend to be either of that to infiltrate it. You wouldn't fight a spider even if it was sprawled in front of you and I am not allowed – as a woman – to take part in the fights. And _no_ , I will _not_ cross-dress to please your wild fantasies. Give up."

He tried to protest in vain. For a few minutes, he vainly tried to convince her that none of them would be recognized. _A dark-skinned former prince and red-haired former slave_. She rolled her eyes at his futile attempts. _Babysitting some random kid would've been easier_. This one was unpredictable and lived on a whim.

"You're not funny, you know?" He pouted, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I've no time for fun."

She brusquely walked past him, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched and lips pressed in a thin line. He was making everything seem so easy. Well, unlike her, he could move freely. He was a _prince_ after all, he could be nothing but acknowledged. When she had been hated, despised, and looked down upon for all these years, _6 years_ – 6 years of her life that she had given to Reim – he did not need to care about the opinion people had of him. _He was a former prince after all_. Unlike her, he came from a wealthy family, knew who his begetters were and where he came from. _He was so lucky_. He had the freedom she could never dream to possess. Yet, he was poking fun at her unashamedly.

" _I've no time for your nonsense_."

 _Was she rude?_ Well, it didn't matter. She had given so much for this country. No matter the hatred, the hostility she received in return, _she loved Reim_. She loved the country, the cities and their inhabitants from the bottom of her heart. However, loving Reim did not mean bow to this _boy_. _She disliked Naseem_. Disliked the kid more than anybody she had ever met. He was brazen, carefree and way too foolish. _He was a hindrance_. And she would never accept him as her equal, over her dead body.

She felt a hand grasp her wrist and whirled around aggressively, barring her teeth. Suddenly cautious, the teenager took a step back, eyeing her warily. _But she didn't care_. She had been reasonable her whole life, right now, _just for once_ , she wanted to do something unreasonable. She wanted to throw a fit, to throw a tantrum, to stomp her foot on the floor like a kid. It was so frustrating. Yet, instead of finally evacuating her growing frustration, she took a breath. Naseem could have the good role, she didn't care. As long as she was still able to help the country, then it didn't matter.

"I don't have time for your bunkum. If you want to have fun, then go and find another playmate. Don't take your _role_ for granted, Naseem. Muu-san _will_ come back. Till his return, I have duties to attend to. Please, enjoy your day."

She ignored his frown and felt a small, victorious smile stretch her lips. Myron was an idiot if she thought that after all this time, Muu Alexius would come back home. And maybe, _just maybe_ , she was as foolish as her for believing in his return.

* * *

 **Tantrum**

* * *

 _Alive at the edges of Earth and yet dead for everyone. These beings, if beings they were, did not live nor did they die. They were said to be there at the advent of the world and yet, no one could attest to their existence. Were they alive, real human beings? Or merely ghosts, made up by the humanity's wild imagination?_

 _They were twelve. They did not bear any name. More than beings, they were essences._

 _The first one was called acceptance._

 _The second was called kindness._

 _The third was called knowledge._

 _The fourth was called valor._

 _The fifth was called innocence._

 _The sixth was called tenacity._

 _The seventh was called discernment._

 _The eighth was called tranquility._

 _The ninth was called action._

 _The tenth was called ignorance._

 _The eleventh was called wisdom._

 _And the twelfth was called judgment._

 _No one knew where they came from, but as the stars were merging, each celestial body slamming into the ground in order to create what we people commonly call Earth, they simply appeared. As aged as the world, if not older. These beings, brothers and sisters found the first human beings. They gathered hundreds of people, soon becoming a nomadic tribe. These human beings loved the Twelve and listened to them. Then, deciding they were now too many of people to keep on living this life, the Twelve decided to found a city: Samarra_ _ **[1]**_.

 _The life in Samarra was peaceful. The Twelve, each one bearing an essence that complemented their siblings' one, were ruling wisely. In this way, 300 years went by. I wonder… if the human nature drives them to the cruelest acts. Are we, human, born with a certain amount of malevolence within our heart? Are we creatures born with an equal amount of whiteness and darkness? If we are, then what pushed these humans to betray their benefactors? Everything was thriving and yet, they still took up arms, determined to overthrow and kill the Twelve whose longevity terrified them._

 _No one knows what the true story is. Even so, I am still convinced that what I am writing here is the truth. You of little faith who is reading my last words, you ought to pay great attention to them. The Twelve are no legend, they really did exist, they really_ _ **do**_ _exist. The Twelve are the very core of this world. Each and every one represents a link of the Great Chain of Existence. I am aware that what flows freely through everything is rukh. Still, the Great Chain of Existence does exist._ _ **She**_ _is what link souls. When someone dies, their body returns to the Earth and their soul returns to the rukhs; yet, it is this very same soul that seeks for a new carnal sheath in order to be born again. That is the Great Chain of Existence, totally different from King Solomon's Rukh's Guidance. The Twelve are beings born of The Great Chain of Existence, each one bearing_ _ **her**_ _smile. **[2]**_

 _These beings were,_ _ **are**_ _the very incarnation of Earth. And yet, they were slaughtered savagely. Profoundly loving the human kind, none of them knew how to fight, how to resist, how to beware, how to defend oneself. And so they died. Only three, Wisdom, Valor and Ignorance managed to survive, running away from Samarra, their home, their siblings' grave. This incident had changed them. The Three remaining were now wary, resentful, and full of hatred. They were nomad again. Hiding from the human kind, the Three remaining started a new journey, shunning the cities._

 _They should have been erased from memories at this instant. It would have been logic. But then, the Three remaining met_ _ **them**_ _. Four cast away, four beings,_ _ **humans**_ _, gifted with the power of the Great Chain of Existence._ _ **Fear**_ _,_ _ **Love**_ _,_ _ **Suffering**_ _and_ _ **Age**_ _. Because the meeting occurred, two things that shouldn't have happened happened: the Witch came into being one more time as did the Lionheart and once more, the two loci fought_. _Consequently, the Great Chain of Being was severed and so the Destiny's Flow created by King Solomon was distorted. The world was never the same again_.

"Are you reading _Annals of Earth_?"

She blinked, head reluctantly turning toward the person who had invaded her haven of peace. Sharah Peyrus was standing in the doorway, arms folded and an expectant eyebrow raised in her direction. Slowly, she set the book on the table, giving the woman her full attention.

"I am."

Sharah smiled, lazily gesturing toward the shelves with her sleeves.

"This library is full of enthralling books for young teenagers like you and yet, the only one you are reading is this old thing? You are so old-fashioned despite your young age, _dear_."

Little Noor flushed when Sharah giggled, timidly brushing strands of hair aside. _It was true_. The Peyrus Estate's library was full of interesting books, yet the only shelf to have picked up her attention was the _Legend of the Contemporary World_ 's one. It was comprehensive, to some extent. Himalia's favorite shelf had been this one and when she was still young, little Noor loved to settle down on the old advisor's laps to read the same books as her.

"This one especially is fascinating, there are some things absolutely puzzling. The _Twelve_ are said to be older than the world, yet this feat is impossible. Also, if this assumption is correct, who existed first? King Solomon or the infamous Twelve? Who are the _Witch_ and the _Lionheart_? What exactly are _Fear_ , _Love_ , _Suffering_ and _Age_? May Lord Bishamonten bless me in this search of truth for this legend makes no sense."

Sharah giggled at her defeated eyes.

"This little mind of yours shan't stop until it finds the rightful answers. If it is you, I am sure that the truth can be unearth. Himalia and Alva wouldn't have given you away for anything in the world, after all." She gave a faint smile and little Noor shuddered. "Anyway, young Myron is here to see you. She said, I quote ' _since words can't make her exit this stupid library, I'll drag her ass off with my fists_ ' unquote. How lovely of her to come and visit you."

 _Typically Myron_. Sharah laughed when she made a face. She still didn't understand how, but eventually, Myron and she had warmed up to each other. _Not exactly_. She suspected that since both of them had lost their closest family, they had simply hung on to the closest person. They had found in each other a family's replacement. _It wasn't half-bad_.

"I understand. She is starting to feel restless. Lady Sharah, would you mind us using the training ground?"

"Of course not dear. Use it as you want but don't destroy anything."

She suppressed a small smile. Sharah Peyrus was dangerous, but she cared greatly for her family. And thanks to this woman, she felt part of the family. Quietly, she jumped on her feet, saluted the woman and blazed past the housemaids, surprisingly eager to see her friend. Myron was younger and way more childish – she had turned 16 three months ago – howbeit good company. Moreover, it was entertaining to see her try and tame her fierce and passionate nature. Myron kept trying to act like a proper lady and yet, hated the calm and the inactivity. It was so paradoxical and Myron-like. They were polar opposite and yet went along surprisingly well. She felt a smile tug the corner of her lips when she entered the main hall. Myron was standing frozen in the middle of ten or so maids who were all offering their assistance. Her fists were twitching with the urge to snap.

"What is all this commotion about?" She asked aloud, raising an expecting eyebrow when the maids turned her way.

They all scurried out of her way and bowed respectively, offering her a better view of her fanalis friends who was gawking at her. She suppressed a smile and raised an expectant eyebrow instead. Myron grumbled some colorful words and silently, she gestured toward the back door. They started walking slowly.

"Still not used to the maids? You've been here _millions_ of times, Myron. Are you not overdoing it?"

Myron hissed angrily.

"How the hell am I supposed to get used to these creepy _stalkers_? _Don't give me that look I'm serious!_ I need to take it out on someone. Spar with me."

She stopped abruptly, jaw clenched, eyes furrowed and fists tightened. Heaving a sigh, little Noor glanced at the mansion that now stood afar. They had moved away – maybe from 3 miles or so – but in her mind, it was still too close. She frowned, pursing her lips with distaste. _It would be fine_ , her mind supplied. She inhaled deeply and discarded her roman sandal as well as any piece of cloth likely to bother her. _It was nothing new_. They were sparring almost every day in order to enable the younger one to vent out her frustration. Yet, it still incommoded her somehow.

"Ready?" Myron asked gruffly, eagerness perceptible in her voice.

"Always."

She felt impatience rush through her own veins. As much as she tried to deny it, she loved to spar with Myron. When she was fighting the other fanalis, she did not need to care about etiquette. She did not need to be the calm and insightful Noor. She could be wild, free, act rashly without a care in the world. She could be free. She exhaled a deep breath, briefly closed her eyes and tensed when Myron leaned forward. For several second, they stood frozen, looking at each other dead in the eyes. Then, Myron lunged at her and she jumped backward to dodge a kick that would have sent her fly backward. She avoided a succession of punch, observing her opponent's attacking pattern. Physically speaking, Myron was stronger than her. Most likely because unlike her, she used all her spare time to train. Her only advantage in this fight was her speed. She was slightly faster than her, only slightly but she still was. And unlike Myron, she wasn't attacking blindly.

Spotting an opening in Myron's guard, she attempted a swift kick only to have the Alexius girl spinning backward. _Good_. With a wild grin she launched herself at Myron, eyes widened by adrenaline. _At this instant, she was not Noor Peyrus anymore_. _She was a wild animal, enjoying its freedom_.

* * *

 **Seemliness**

* * *

" _What are you doing here?_ "

She briefly closed her eyes to ease the tension in her muscles. Next to her, Myron hissed at Naseem whose face twisted into a scowl. The former prince huffed and Myron grunted, both of them glaring daggers at the other. Little Noor sighed breathlessly, ignoring the thick atmosphere. Myron and Naseem loathed each other, it was obvious. Still, both of them knew how to behave in public. _Or so she hoped_. Turning a blind eye on the silent confrontation, she glanced at the soldier in charge of guarding the door, who was way too stiff. It was not her first time here and she was familiar with this man, he was always anxious. Today seemed different, though. His position was tensed and he was looking anywhere but in their direction.

"Is she ready to see us?" She asked slowly, tilting her head to the side when he fidgeted on his spot.

Nervously, he cleared his throat before shaking his head. _He wasn't looking her in the eyes_. She nodded wordlessly, lips forming a thin line. _Something was definitely wrong_. It was unusual for Scheherazade to summon her, Naseem or Myron. She had her daily meetings with the Great Priestess, Naseem was seeing her weekly and Myron had never bothered to meet the Magi, save once. As for her, she had submitted her report to Scheherazade at least 3 hours earlier. To stress further the oddness of the situation, she had summoned not only her but Naseem and Myron – who couldn't help but want to go for the jugular of the other – as well. It undoubtedly meant that either something was wrong or that she had something important to announce. Either way, it was important enough to call the three of them out. She blinked, casting a glance at Myron. _Why was Myron even here_? Of course, she was a member of the renowned Alexius family but pretty useless. Women weren't allowed in the army and Myron's sole quality was her strength. She wasn't getting along with the other teenagers and she was her only friend. Her only pastime was to train. To say the truth, she _mattered_ _little_. The saddest thing about it was that all her efforts were pointless.

"What are you blowing up your mind on?" Myron asked suddenly and she blinked at the teenager. "You're making that weird face again. Stop it, that's creepy."

She felt a smile tug the corner of her lips. It was silly, how Myron could bring out the most childish part of her without even trying. How she felt at ease whenever she was around the young Alexius. How this bratty child was able to soothe her tense nerve with her loudmouth. How her unladylike manners succeeded in making her forget her problems. She closed her eyes, silently thanking Myron. When she opened them again, the soldier in front of them sidestepped as the massive doors opened. Great Priestess and Magi of Reim, Scheherazade stood in the doorway, frozen, eyes closed. Faster than her fellows, she dropped on her left knee, lowered her head and grabbed her left fist with her right hand.

" _Lady Scheherazade_." She greeted respectfully, relieved to hear Naseem and Myron's voice altogether with hers.

"Do come in." She ordered after a few seconds of silence.

Whilst standing up, little Noor glanced once more at the soldier who upon meeting her eyes, immediately averted his. Anxiously, she dusted her tunic, panic rushing through her veins. Neither Myron nor Naseem seemed to have understood that something was definitely aùiss, but she could feel it in the air. Cautiously, she trailed after Myron who was looking around curiously. It was probably her first time in the Great Priestess's residence. Naseem seemed as surprised as Myron and little Noor vaguely wondered where the Magi and he met, if it was not here.

Suddenly, Myron grasped her hand and little Noor winced when she squeezed it with way to much strength. She shot a withering look at Myron who stood frozen on her spot, lips parted and eyes wide open. Little Noor felt her _Metal Vessel_ pulse against her cheek, a wave of quiescence surging through her veins. _Now, it was unexpected_. Slowly, her eyes followed Myron's line of sight and she felt her blood run cold. She drove her nails in the young Alexius's skin to convince herself that in was no dream and felt strangely pleased when Myron flinched.

" _It's been a long time, Myron, Noor_."

 _Muu Alexius_ smiled warmly, eyes sparkling with pride.

"Damn." Myron swore loudly.

 _She approved even if she didn't voice it._

* * *

 _Author's notes:_

 **[1]** _Samarra's a city in Iraq that was the capital of the Abbasid Caliphate between 836 and 892._

 **[2]** A french thing maybe a bit difficult to catch for english people. Like said in the last chapter, gender-neutral pronouns don't exist in french. That's why to talk about items, we usually go for a masculine or feminine pronouns. For instance, ' _car_ ' is feminine. Here, I talk about the ' _Great Chain of Existence_ ', which is feminine in french, and since I wanted to add a kind of living impression, I took the liberty to use ' _she_ ' as a referent to the Chain. The Chain is not only an item, _she_ has an existence of _her_ own. Does it seem weird? Or wrong?

Hi guys! Nice to see that I'm ahead of time. This chapter was hard, you know? Character's development, relationships, plot and finally Muu's long-awaited return. As you guys have probably seen, the pace is different. Faster. Don't get used to it, it was just for the sake of this chapter. Also, I can finally proclaim this story's official beginning ! Cheers!

Have you guys ever played Final-Fantasy Type-0? Well, I haven't. I was watching some videos on youtube (because you know, not to (to not?) make the characters too OOC I have to watch the anime and read the manga again and again and again) and all of a sudden, the trailer popped on my screen. I was like, 'what the hell' and ready to close it off but some scenes picked my interest. In the end, I watched the whole trailer and I was like 'what the hell, the game stole a part of my plot!'. Kiddin' but it greatly helped me with some _nonsensical_ parts of the plot that are important. So if you guys have ever played FF Type-0, you get the hint.

Funny how I keep focusing on little Noor's improvement in her personality or interactions, but not on her growth as a fighter. It _is_ important, but at this point of the story, lesser. Because, _Women aren't allowed on the Battlefield_ , you see. I was worried about Myron's character. We see the girl in like, 3 episodes and it is damn hard to try and portray her. She has to be a tad gruff and rude, but her efforts in trying to be a proper lady have to be taken in account. Muu promises to be problems as well.

As for Naseem... Later. He's important obviously (otherwise I wouldn't have taken the time to introduce him like I did) but... Just not now. The next chapter officially marks the end of the First Arc: Adjustment in Reim.

As for the chapter in itself... I'll be honest, the end is botched. I felt like shit and frustrated because and didn't know how to wrap it up so I cheated. You might have noticed that not only the pace but the style as well is very different at the beginning of the chapter and at the end. I tried to give the chapter a kind of "natural" transition from one hand to the other, but in my eyes the difference is blatant. I'll rewrite this chapter eventually (not much, but this end really bothers me), but just not now.

Well, I think we're good. Next month then ~


	6. The Right Path

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter VI: The right path

* * *

" _Spirit of Oneirism and Consciousness, I order thee. Swathe my body, enshroud my body and turn the dream into reality. Awaken, Beleth!_ "

She creased her eyebrows, muscles twitching with the effort. Sweat was trickling her forehead and she was biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Painfully, she stretched her left arm, squeezing her _Metal Vessel_. The earring began to spark and light engulfed the piece of jewelry. Finally, the hand-sized vessel stretched. When the light finally faded away, her hand was clutching a glassy double-bladed scythe. One of the blade was glowing faintly. Contrariwise, the other was exuding darkness. Her forearms were wrapped up in a glassy matter that looked like crystal. She exhaled deeply, trying to soothe her ragged breath.

Across from her, a 24 years old Muu raised an eyebrow and she bristled. For now, it was the best she could do. She could maintain her Djinn in this form for 2 minutes, already an achievement in her eyes. Wordlessly, she slowed down the flow of magoi rushing through her veins, relaxing her stance. Once again, a wave of calmness rushed through her veins and she suppressed a grateful smile. She was so engrossed in her duties that she sometimes forgot she owned a Djinn. These moments during which her partner was sharing with her these lulling feelings were doing her a world of good.

"So," calmly started Muu, eyeing her leisurely, "you conquered a Dungeon. On your own."

She stared him down, unflinching.

"I did. You were gone, Alva was dead and Himalia was dying. I was all alone, I didn't matter and I _needed_ to have importance if I wanted to fulfill my task. I conquered Beleth in the wrong state of mind, I lost sight of my objective and even forgot what I was fighting for. But in the end, for the 6 years I've spent in Reim in your absence, I've never regretted it. Not then, not ever."

She stood tall, daring him to belittle her. _Not that the Muu she knew would ever do that_. But he had been away from Reim for 6 years. According to him, he had spent a year inside Barbatos's dungeon and the 5 years he had spent outside the dungeon remained a mystery. He was tight-lipped on the matter and refused to talk about this, Scheherazade was the only one who knew. _**Of course she would know**_ , spat the darkest, bitterest side of her, _**unlike you, he trusts her; who wouldn't?**_ Even _Lo'lo_ , a fellow fanalis Muu had freed from slavery and brought over in Reim, didn't want to tell anything about these mysterious 5 years. To say the truth, she was quite upset – not as much as Myron though – that Muu refused to talk to her about it. And above all, scared that the person wherewith she had spent her childhood was gone.

She stiffened visibly when he moved forward, stopping right in front of her. He was looking down on her with unreadable eyes and she was standing still, trying to hide her nervousness behind a detached outward. In actual fact, she was at her wits' end, trying not to drop her weapon. She suppressed a start when Muu's hand rose and shut her eyes, shoulders tense and ready for whatever was coming next. She blinked when his hand laid on her head. Fondly, he patted it with a large smile, nodding enthusiastically.

" _Good_." He praised her approvingly and she felt her heart swell with pride. "So you've supported this country on your own for 6 years? You've become really strong, haven't you? Wherever _they_ are, you make _them_ proud. Be sure of it. You've worked hard. _I_ am proud of you."

She felt tears well up in her eyes and sniffed loudly. In front of anyone else, she wouldn't allow herself to show this vulnerable side of her, _but it was Muu_ and for 6 years, she had dreamt of this instant. She was feeling so relieved. _Everything she had done until now was not to no avail_. She had made good choices. She wiped her teary eyes, silently thanking Muu for ignoring her emotional outburst. Wordlessly, she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth that was providing her the half-fanalis's sole presence. Finally, after years of constant stress and anxiety, she was feeling at peace. A small, nostalgic smile stretched her lips and for once, she decided that she wanted to be selfish. Her weapon – which got back to her initial jewelry form – clattered on the floor when she took a step forward. Swiftly – surprising even Muu in the process – she wrapped her arms around his broad torso and hugged him tightly.

 _Muu Alexius was family_. When she had felt lost in this new environment, he had been there and had helped her to get accustom to her new life, he had guided her. He had been her landmark and her model. Alva and Himalia's death had been hard to bear, _but Muu's disappearance had been worst_. She had tried to hide them, she had buried them so deep within her that even for her, those feelings had seemed nothing but hollow. Now however, these feelings were coming back with full force and she was feeling this unconditional fear again. _Where was he? What was he doing? Was he eating properly? Was he even alive?_ All these excessive worries were making themselves heard again and she was afraid that should she ever let him go, he would disappear once more. Muu's hands – which where awkwardly patting her back – landed on her shoulders and she almost felt her heart stop when he softly pushed her away. She raised her head toward his with wide, frightened eyes and winced when he gently tapped her forehead.

"Quit worrying, it doesn't suit you." He chided not unkindly. "I'm not disappearing anymore, I promise. _I'm home_."

 _He was home_. He was home and nothing else mattered.

"Welcome back, _Muu_."

Just like that, her sanctuary was restored. A comfortable silence settled and wordlessly, she picked her Metal Vessel up and put it back on her left ear. Of course, this comfortable silence couldn't last any longer for raised voices ringed out and when she looked toward the large estate, little Noor blinked at the strange display. Lo'lo was squeezing Myron's cheeks with his right hand, said Myron hanging a meter away from the floor trying – and failing – to kick the taller and broader fanalis in the chest. Her screams were muffled by his hand but her eyes were enough to make clear that once she was down, she would make him suffer.

"Let her go, Lo'lo." Muu requested him, making his way to them.

Lo'lo didn't seem to be in the mood to comply however, as he tightened his grip on Myron who struggled wildly, making him growl with annoyance. Finally reaching them, Muu calmly laid his hand on Lo'lo's forearm and blinked when without even acknowledging his presence, the pure-blood fanalis lifted him one-handedly and threw him in the nearest wall as if he was some kind of pestering bug. Little Noor gasped at the pure-blood fanalis's actions and immediately rushed to Muu's side, gaping at Lo'lo who hadn't even realized what he had done. Myron seemed to have seen it though, because she successfully kicked him in the chin, jumped on her feet and screamed at him for being _'a damn ungrateful bear and stop playing dumb I'll kick you again!'_ Little Noor gave a faint smile, relieved to see that the two seemed to get along.

"They seem to have hit it off pretty well."

Muu brushed her choice of words aside.

"Definitely."

* * *

 **Overbear**

* * *

" _Absolutely not_."

A heavy silence settled in the air as she pronounced those words and subtlety, she tightened her grip on the scrolls in her hands. _It was silly_. To think that she had firmly believed Muu's return would change everything well in fact, everything was still the same. _Naseem was still an advisor_. _Myron was still ignored_. _The fanalis were still persecuted_. _**As gullible as ever**_ _,_ hissed a little voice in her head, hoarse and cutting, _**they all are evolving but you don't change, you stay the same**_. She furrowed her eyebrows, pressing her lips against each other. It was true. She had conquered _Beleth_ 6 years ago but was still unable to wield _him_ properly. She didn't even have a clue on how to use his powers. He was the djinn of _Oneirism_ and _Consciousness_ and when she had a vague idea of what _type_ of djinn he was and how his powers affected the others, she still didn't know how to use them.

 _ **Weak**_. She pursed her lips, suppressing a frustrated sigh. How in _Bishamonten's_ sake had she conquered _Beleth_ 's dungeon? Why would such a powerful being choose her as his king? She had not enough magoi to wield him properly in the first place and she lacked confidence. _She had failed Beleth's trial_. She had physical strength – she still was a fanalis after all and belong to this tribe was one of her greatest pride – and speed. Knowledge as well –Himalia Peyrus had passed her knowledge on to her after all. She could be a warrior or an advisor, but not a dungeon conqueror, _never a dungeon conqueror_. Her metal vessel pulsed against her cheek and she closed her eyes, relishing the wave of quietude appeasing her frayed nerves. _Was that his way to try and comfort her? To tell her that he had chosen her despite her failure in his dungeon? Despite her blatant flaws?_ 6 years had passed since then and _Beleth's_ voice had faded slowly until she wasn't able to hear it anymore. Not that it mattered when he was always here, always providing her comfort in this fashion.

" _So?_ " Came a lazy drawl and she immediately pulled herself together, pushing the intrusive thoughts aside.

"Naseem, I told you already that I don't have time for your stup–"

"I thought it through." He cut her off and his voice held an unusual strength. "I've thought of a way to drive him out without jeopardizing ourselves."

She calmly set the quill on the table, raising a contemptuous eyebrow in a Himalia fashion, feeling despite her a pang of curiosity. If she had to be honest, she had been persuaded that he had given up on his childish investigation after her spiteful rebuff. When the anger had died down, she had felt remorseful because he was nothing but a kid wishing to have a good time and she had tried to spoil his sole amusement. Naseem stuck out his chest, unwavering, and she cracked a smile. Notwithstanding the contempt she had for him, she couldn't loathe him.

"Come with me to the _Sword Festival_." He announced resolutely and her smile fell.

 _Of course_. It was to be expected that his so-called _plan_ involved a celebration and a profusion of dishes. She closed her eyes briefly, exhorting herself to calm and opened them again, ready to shut him down and dismiss him. She started when Naseem slammed his hands on her desk, an angry scowl on his face and hissing angrily.

" _I am not done_." He snarled lowly and she froze. Her right hand twitched and hovered over her short sword's guard as she strangely felt threatened by the younger teenager. "We _will_ go to this festival, because it is at this period that the Coliseum organizes the _Grand Tournament_ in order to decide who the strongest swordsman in Reim is, which means that this _pig_ will be there. We won't have to explain our presence since citizens from the whole country will be there to attend the festival. This is a one-in-a-lifetime occasion, we _can't_ waste it!"

As much as she wished to tell the contrary, he was right. This festival was so gigantic – and headaches producing – that no one would notice their presence. Citizens from all over Reim would meet in Remano and the city would be black with people for at least three days. It was the perfect time to try and drive out the suspicious merchant. Paradoxically, it would be a perfect opportunity for him to smuggle whatever he was trading illegally in Remano. It was their best opportunity but the most dangerous as well. The pros and cons were even.

"I–"

" _I'm in_." Spoke a third voice.

Dumfounded, she opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"Me too." Chirped a feminine voice.

"I hope there will be some action." A male voice said gruffly.

She heaved a long, tired sigh, burying her face in her hands to muffle a desperate moan. Both Alexius siblings and Lo'lo seemed perfectly content to take part in such a dangerous intervention and visibly not aware that should said-intervention be a mess, she would be the one to have to be accountable for their actions. Vainly trying to recompose herself, she threw a pinning gaze to Myron and Lo'lo who immediately stood straighter.

"You two _do_ know, that it won't involve any ass kicking or battles of some sort, right?"

(" _Ass! Noor said ass!_ " " _Shut up she'll hear you!_ ") The two of them nodded vigorously and she sighed in resignation, aware that there was no point in trying and talking them out of doing it now. Suddenly worn out, she tuned Naseem and Myron out when the former commented on the so-called ugliness of the latter. Tossing the scrolls on her desk aside – there was no point in trying to work now – she got to her feet and whacked both teenagers on the head to quiet them.

"Hush now. Until the end of the festival, you are not allowed to fight. I'm serious," she pressed on as the two glared daggers at each other, "don't fight or you'll be grounded."

Both of them spun their head her way with offended expressions but she ignored them, raising a stern eyebrow to convey her seriousness. Lo'lo sniggered in the background but she ignored him, nodding at the two youngest of their makeshift group when they lowered their heads in a submissive way.

"What are you, their mother or something?" Lo'lo sneered with a smirk that made his gash look even more horrendous.

"As for you," she kept a stern expression, pointing an accusing finger at him, "lie low or you'll be grounded too. And don't think I will not do it, you'd be gravely mistaking."

However younger and shorter than him she was, it didn't mean that she was less intimidating. Lo'lo immediately quieted down like a punished child and she suppressed a smile.

"You seem to have a way with them." Muu mused with a teasing smile.

It sounded both like a compliment and an insult.

"When you know how to deal with them, easily-excited-and-simple-minded _children_ are not that much trouble."

She ignored their offended cry, nodding in a businesslike manner. Somewhat, it felt ridiculous. She, the supposed most sensible of them all, was yielding and adopting their ridiculously carefree-like lifestyle. Curiously, it felt nice. Not having to care about the etiquette, not minding one's behavior, having friends whereon she could rely. Fondly eyeing the four individuals with her, she felt her heart stir with gratitude, with unreasonable devotion. These people were her friends, _her family_ and having them around her after 6 years of constant anxiety was heartwarming.

"How should we proceed then?" Enthusiastically enquired Naseem. He was almost glowing, visibly satisfied to finally investigate on this worrisome matter. "Tail him? I'll gladly–"

"Absolutely out of question." She flat out refused, knowing that whatever he was going to propose next would compromise their positions in one way or another. "And no," she added with a sharp glance toward Lo'lo, "we will not hunt him down and erase his existence from the surface of Earth. It would be unbecoming and totally out of proportion. Please, do no submit any inconsiderate ideas anymore. And no Myron, you will not take part in the Grand Tournament to catch his attention, not a chance."

To think that she had firmly believed being able to map something out with these ridiculous people.

"Actually, it might be a good idea." She gawked at the oldest of them all, speechless. He immediately waved his hand, sensing her disbelief. "Absolutely not Myron. It would be way too dangerous for her. Taking part in the Grand Tournament is our best option, though. I would gladly do it."

" _WHAT?!_ " Myron and Lo'lo both roared in their overly protective way and she rolled her eyes as Naseem whined.

 _It went without saying that Muu would absolutely not put himself in such danger_.

* * *

 **Cloistered**

* * *

 _He had put himself in danger_.

 _Love muffled a scream of pure exasperation, arms desperately raised toward the sky. Less than a kilometer away, Ignorance was deeply observing a large – absolutely gigantic – bear, if only it was a bear, blissfully sleeping, unaware of the other's presence. As much as Love liked Ignorance, even they were reluctant to actually approach the animal to physically retrieve their oblivious companion. Fear – who was positively shaking and hiding his whole body behind them – mumbled something about turning back and letting the idiot die since he was so eager to do so, but Age calmly objected. Suffering, who was eyeing the bear – was that even a bear? – as reluctantly as Love, sided with Fear because really was it even worthy to put oneself in such danger for this madman?_

" _We can't possibly leave." Age protested and one could feel the wisdom in his voice. "Wisdom and Valor entrusted Ignorance to us. We cannot possibly escape this task as we accepted willingly. Ignorance is but a mere child and child will he stay his whole life. As_ _ **Mother**_ _'s children, it is our duty to guide him."_

" _May Solomon guide us for how impossible the said-task seems right now." Suffering grumbled, begrudgingly accepting Age's explication._

 _For several seconds, the four of them stood frozen, observing Ignorance as he poked the bear, said bear starting to stir. Fear's gasp broke the stunned silence as the animal awoke. Unaware of the dangerous situation in which he was, Ignorance poked harder and jumped when the animal roared. He yelped and narrowly dodged a lethal bite. Love bolted the first, ran towards the enraged animal and the imbecile whatever-being-he-was and crashed into Ignorance with full force. Both of them tumbled across the floor on several meters, narrowly dodging a deadly scratch. Suffering – who had mysteriously teleported near the two of them – yanked both of them out of the way with a frustrated cry._

" _Run!" Age ordered hysterically – this one could easily lose his composure after all, couldn't he? – as he lifted Fear up and ran off without a look behind._

 _Both Love and Suffering gaped at him because really, where was their sensible leader? They didn't linger on their spot though, as the bear roared angrily. Frantic, Suffering grabbed Ignorance's collar and dragged him off behind Age and Fear already far ahead thanks to their head start. The four Loci plus Ignorance ran 3 miles – Ignorance whining still – before stopping out of breath. After a few minutes of silence, Suffering pointed an accusing finger at Ignorance who blinked obliviously._

" _Have you not any idea of what self-preservation is?" She berated him hotly, cheeks flushing with anger. "What if you died?"_

 _Ignorance blinked. "Self-preservation? What's that? Can I eat it?"_

 _Both she and Love moaned tiredly, unable to believe that such a fatuous individual could actually exist. Fear sniffed – he was but a mere child after all, unlike the others – having had the fright of his lifetime. The kid was scared of his own shadow after all, but still, their propensity for life-risking situations had skyrocketed since Ignorance's arrival. Age felt his lips twitch upward as his observed the four individuals around him. Fear and his unconditional fright of everything true to the spirit of his name, Suffering and her strangely soft disposition as she was insulting Ignorance whilst checking his wounds, Love and their oddly androgynous disposition as they were unable to resent anyone or anything. Age, who had lived more than he could remember and had nearly raised his fellow Loci smiled warmly_. _He could get used to this everyday life_. _**Maybe he could**_.

Little Noor awoke with a start, heart pounding, breathing uneven and drenched in sweat. Her stomach churned painfully and she threw the blankets off, stumbling out of her bed. Her erratic breath seemed to echo in the room and her wobbly legs collapsed underneath her. Hot tears burnt her eyelids as the remnants of her dream faded away. Still, her heart felt crushed by a sorrow that wasn't hers. This overflow of emotions – joy, fondness, hope, regret, resentment and _**hatred, hatred, hatred**_ – was making her sick. Her breath hitched and she retched, bending forward to stay the surge of heartbreaking emotions.

She started when a hand – rougher and firmer – grabbed hers and speechless, she gawked at Muu Alexius who crouched down beside her. Really, what was he even doing here at such a late hour in a house that wasn't even his? A breathless sigh escaped her lips as he gently patted her head and she briefly closed her eyes, vainly trying to stifle her hiccup. She pursed her lips when he patiently wiped her tears away and brushed his hands off, having neither the clear mind nor the patience to deal with him right now.

"Were you having a bad dream?"

 _A bad dream?_ The last snippets of her dream were fading and she couldn't remember what had made her so upset in the first place. She exhaled quietly, trying to ease her quavering shoulders to no avail. Muu cautiously grabbed hold of her chin and turned her head his way, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Was it your past?"

 _Her past?_ Her eyes widened with comprehension. She had never bothered to inform Muu on how she had lived as a slave. _The torture_. _The cruelty_. He had come back to Reim with Lo'lo however, Lo'lo a barely freed slave who still suffered from his former condition. They were freed, but one could never forget. If Lo'lo had explained him how fanalis were treated as slaves, he had probably rushed up to her when she had started to trash in her sleep – why was he even in the estate, though? – believing that she was dreaming of her former-slave-self. Muu Alexius was persuaded that she suffered from _posttraumatic_ _stress_ _disorder_. The idea seemed both aberrational and realistic at once.

Unlike Lo'lo, whose experiences were still pretty recent, she had had no time to think about it. Alva and Himalia had probably tried to make her forget by drowning her into work and studies. Briefly, she pictured her past self, shackled and curled up in the dark. Her stomach churned once more and she suddenly felt sick, desperately shoving the mental image as far as she could. She cringed and curled up against Muu who was deliberately tracing slow circles on her back, afraid that should he move too brusquely she would break down.

"I… wasn't having a nightmare. I just… suddenly felt emotional. It is nothing to worry about. You should focus your attention on tomorrow as the Grand Tournament is not something to trifle with. Really, you shall–"

"Such a stubborn child." He cut her off gently, an amusing grin threatening to split his face in two. "You've been conditioned to put up a brave front no matter what, haven't you? I'm not even sure whether you are an adult or still a kid."

"I'm not–!"

She flushed when he smiled knowingly. When she considered herself as an accomplished grown-up, Muu Alexius, who had been accustomed to the rude child she had been back then, still viewed her as a child. She huffed childishly when he patted her head once more, like he did back then. Heart lighter however, she slowly stood up, breathing calmer and panic having faded.

"I'm fine now." She announced after a few seconds of silence. "Thank you, Muu-san. I didn't mean to troubl–"

Her words turned into gibberish when he pinched her cheek. Gently, he helped her on her feet and patted her head once more like he'd do with an obedient puppy. She huffed childishly but stayed still nonetheless because apart from Myron, Muu Alexius was the only one who could bring out the most childish part of her without her having any shame to do so.

"If taking part in the operation makes you uncomfortable–"

"Wha–? No, that's not it!" She cut him off immediately, waving her hands. "It has nothing to do with that! It's just…"

 _Why was she even so obsessed on this?_ Obsessed to the point of being shaken in the middle of the night. She had no guarantee whether this story was true or not and yet, she couldn't help but seek for the answers. _What is the Lionheart?_ _What are the Twelve? What has happened to the four Loci?_ This book was nothing but a hodgepodge of fairy tales. Fairy tales maybe and yet, deep down within her she was unrealistically convinced that somewhere out there, _these people_ did exist. _Or had existed_. Either way, she was obsessing over this story until it made her sick. She was worrying even Muu who had better things to do than comfort her at daybreak.

"…some reports I read yesterday. Our researchers tried to use the substance called gunpowder Alva created and it backfired, destroying the _Department_ _of_ _Research_ _and_ _Development's_ building. I was feeling nostalgic and a bit lonely, I guess." She lied smoothly.

It was a half-truth and besides, he really didn't need to be bothered with her silly problems.

"I see… If you say so. If something is bothering you, you can talk to me. I am aware that you may be reticent to do so since you've had only Myron as company for the past five years but really, I want you to be able to rely on me. _We're family_."

 _Family_. They were not only family because they had grew up together but rather because their bond exceeded the simple acquaintance of one another. Their bonds didn't come down to the fact that they belonged to the same country, that they had been educated in order to protect the same country. Their bonds were deeper, stronger. _They were family_. She cracked a small smile, bowing faintly.

"Of course. I do know that you only wish to make _us_ the happiest you can for all the years you've missed and I can respect that. However, you must remember Muu-san that both Myron and I have grown up. Don't be such a worrywart."

Muu heaved a sigh, defeated by her stubbornness. "Well, don't strain yourself. You should go back to bed by the way, it's going to be daybreak soon–"

Her double-leaf door flied open and little Noor groaned when her two personal maids waltzed inside, Maia grunting when she noticed Muu's presence. The aloof maid grumbled something inaudible and Yana – the ever exuberant one – squealed with joy and latched onto the Alexius noble, checking his biceps out at the same time. With a grin too large to be innocent, she led him to the door, politely and in a sugary voice requesting him to wait outside for a few minutes since it was improper for a lady to get dressed in the same room as a man.

"So Lady Noor," casually said Yana with a large smile whilst helping her to take off her pajamas, "this gorgeous Adonis was _the_ famous Muu Alexius. You've got good taste. To think our so reserved Lady would be acquainted with such a man so much that he would come and visit her in the middle of the night. _Oh my_ , could it be _that_ kind of affair…?"

Little Noor suppressed a smile when her enhanced hearing picked up Muu's spluttering on the other side of the door. No doubt that he wasn't missing a word of the conversation occurring. Amused, little Noor did nothing to try and prove her wrong in her assumptions and endured Yana's twitter until both maids finished their task and excused themselves to prepare her breakfast. Little Noor offered a knowing smile to Muu whilst closing her door behind her, noting his furrowed eyebrows and slightly flushed cheeks.

"Maia is _that_ of a gossipmonger, isn't she? My apologies if she has made you uncomfortable. She's nosey but trustworthy, they have been with me since then after all."

She caught the slight slump in his shoulders and realized that her words had sounded too harsh. She offered him an apologetic because Muu Alexius was a lot of things but not a coward, he would never give up on Reim if he had a saying in the decision. Both Muu and she roamed the corridor, chatting idly. She could get used to it, she realized pleasantly. _**She really could**_.

* * *

 **Antagonism**

* * *

" _You're too close_." She mumbled under her breath, too quietly to be heard.

Lo'lo seemed to have understood the message though, for he slowed down ever so slightly. She folded her arms when she entered the royal box, eyes forwards and lips forming a thin line, ignoring the lustful eyes that lingered on her form, hungry for the power she could provide them. Her lips twitched however when she felt Lo'lo's presence right behind her, scarring off the noblemen who didn't dare to strike up a conversation with her. She made a beeline for her seat near Ignatius Alexius's one, greeting him with a brief nod. As quiet as a shadow, Lo'lo slid in her back.

" _Lady Noor_. I didn't think you would attend the event for you have advised Muu against taking part in it." Ignatius said evenly, eyes glued to the display below.

She furrowed her eyebrows, stealing a glance at the stoic old man beside her. In another time, Ignatius Alexius would have held Himalia's position. He was wise, prudent and his habit to always assess the situation carefully only made him more redoubtable. No wonder he was the _Supreme_ _Commander_ of the _Army_. Briefly, her eyes flickered downward, toward the thin man – distinctly foreign – who was chatting with some second class nobleman, discreetly eyeing them under his lashes. Her lips twitched downward when she realized that this man was the merchant they were trying to corner and that his was studying them, probably aware that they were important people.

"I have changed my mind." She cleared her throat awkwardly and raised her voice ever so slightly. "It seems that I have found myself a new interest in gladiators. The Colosseum is a fascinating place after all. Of course I am still rooting for Muu-san but I actually hope to see some interesting fighters for the Peyrus family might wish to buy some."

She hold back a flinch when the foreign man turned his full attention in their direction. He politely excused himself from the man he was talking to and summoned his best smile before heading toward their direction. Lo'lo tensed behind her but she straighten up her back and raised a haughty eyebrow at the man who presented himself in front of them and bowed lowly.

" _Commander Ignatius_ and _Lady Noor_. What a pleasant surprise to see you there since none of you showed any interest in the fights the Coliseum has to offer or their gladiators."

As expected of a high-status person such as Ignatius Alexius, he totally ignored the fool's presence.

"How are the gladiators chosen?" She asked idly, feigning absent-mindedness.

"Oh, it is easy my Lady. They are bought by _customers_ and the more money you put on them, the more often they are going to fight. Depending on the amount of money one has bet, the gladiator might or not fight _beatable_ opponents. Garda has been out a lot lately, since all the gladiators who've been thrown in the arena were cheap bought."

Little Noor suddenly felt nauseous, averting her eyes from the smiling face of the merchant. He reeked of blood, money and sex. Both his body odor and sick mind were making her feel more and more uncomfortable to such an extent that she momentarily felt unable to answer. She cleared her throat once more, gripping her tunic's fabric tightly.

"I see. One is certain to have their protégé winner if they put a lot of money on them." She answered in a detached voice after a few seconds of silence, "I am curious to know however, how such a thing could happen when the _Yambala Gladiators_ are mostly the one who set the fights up. The Emperor values them after all."

"That is when I come into the picture, my fair Lady. I am the one who bring the _slaves_ to Reim and sell them to the people first and then to the Coliseum. My job is to make sure that these slaves you buy fight in the Coliseum. Well, not that it has anything to do with today's event. If my lady ever wishes to call upon me, I would be honored to serve her."

 _How much more disgusting could he be?_

"I'll try to remember th–"

The loud cheers drowned her voice out. In the arena, the number of participants had significantly dropped thanks to Muu's ruthless swordsmanship. Everything was going smoothly, according to the plan Muu and she had set up– because really, the three other had been useless. The third phase was supposed to be the one during which Naseem and Myron stepped in, if everything was going as smoothly as she believed. Her mouth twitched when even after a good ten or so minutes, neither Myron nor Naseem stepped inside the royal box. _Now, that was abnormal_.

As naturally as she could, she got to her feet, briefly nodded to the Commander who made eye-contact before focusing his attention on the arena and left the box, Lo'lo hot on her heels. Her heart was thumping in her chest disagreeably and she had this growing feeling that something really bad was going to happen. To think that of all the pairs she could have formed, she had decided to pair Naseem and Myron when they loathed each other to the point it was ridiculous.

"So," came Lo'lo's voice right next to her ear and she jumped, having momentarily forgotten the pure-blood fanalis's presence, "what's up? 'Thought we were supposed to actually _wait_ for the kids. Some things about not acting rashly or whatever."

 _Of course, Lo'lo who had complained about intelligentsia fanalis and their 'shitty' plans would remember these particular words_.

"It was the plan, yes. They had 10 minutes to join us after our arrival into the royal box however and it has already been 15 minutes. There's something wrong here, I don't know what but something is definitely wrong. We _need_ to find them."

Lo'lo snorted and gave her a smug smile that she deliberately ignored. Whatever the situation he was in, he really took pride in showing the other that brute strength was worth better than any plan. She scoffed but said nothing, it wasn't the moment to bicker on trivial matters right now.

"Can you track them?"

Lo'lo snorted in his conceited way. "I could track them down at the other end of the world. The _kid_ almost drowns herself in perfume."

The kid meant Myron obviously. Little Noor suppressed a snicker because for all his so-called tough outward, she could see the genuine worry in his eyes. They roamed the streets for a good ten or so minutes, following the faint remnants of Myron's strange flowery fragrance. Little Noor's heart was thumping harder at each step she took, her foreboding getting stronger. Lo'lo seemed to feel this tension as well, for his face was turning gloomier and he was quickening his pace over the time. She ran into Lo'lo when he froze at a crossroad. She opened her mouth to demand an explanation but closed it when she picked up on a familiar odor. _Myron's fragrance, obviously_. Along with the distinct odor of blood. Lo'lo bolted – fastest than she had ever seen – and she chased after him, blood pumping in her veins.

Myron and Naseem were nothing but _kids_. They were too young, _way too young_ to live what Lo'lo, she and even Muu had lived. They were _too young_ to meet danger, fear and _death_. Definitely not death. Myron had lived without her brother for the past 6 years, forgotten from everyone and yearning for the said absent brother. As for Naseem, he had lived in Reim alone for the past 4 years, without any family, any ties from his country of origin. Both of them were good kids despite their flaws and none of them deserved to know what the world _truly_ looked like. How the world _really_ was outside the country's borders. She took a sharp intake of breath when the smell of blood assailed her, making her stomach churn. She briefly stopped when the _Gambling_ _Halls_ came into sight, eyes widening with horror. Several men – they were not citizens of Reim, she could tell without a doubt – were looming over the beaten and bloodied form of an inert Naseem.

She didn't even register the low, dangerous growl that her throat emitted. She bent forward, ignoring the raw, barbaric and unhinged killing intent that filled the plaza, herself within an inch to let her anger get the better of her. Lo'lo lunged at the three men nearest him the first and she followed suit, zeroing in on the two around Naseem. No matter how skilled all of them were, both fanalis didn't let them prove their strength. Lo'lo landed on the bulkiest of his three opponents, crushing his bones without a single movement. He kicked the second in the chest, sending him flying backward and crashing into the Halls' wall. The last one tried to run but the fanalis grabbed him by his throat and lifted him. His face was terrifying and his eyes were shining with promises of suffering.

" _Die_." He sneered.

The man stood no chance against the fanalis who effortlessly crushed his throat, splattering blood all over his clothes. Lo'lo snorted dourly and turned his head toward little Noor who was finishing her opponents off. Swiftly, she kicked her remaining opponent in the knees – probably destroying them in the process but at this point, she didn't care anymore – and elbowed him in the jawbone, dislocating it in the process. Crueler than he had ever seen her, Lo'lo observed her as she kept breaking each of his bones, letting him deader than alive. She briefly observed his crushed form before hurrying to Naseem's side, taking his pulse and heaving a sigh when she realized that he was heavily injured but alive. Grimly, Lo'lo approached her with a frustrated face.

"I can no longer smell Myron."

He couldn't see her face but with the way her shoulders stiffened and her grip on the boy tightened, he knew that she was feeling as distraught as him.

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ I. AM. FINALLY. DONE. Damn it, I thought I would never get over this chapter. It was some serious work you know? It is THE turning point of the story.

So, basically in this chapter there's plot, character's development, some pairing moments because really I promised them and finally a bit of action. Action that will keep going in the next chapter of course.

This chapter is more fast-paced _again_. I don't mean it I swear because I really love slow-paced story but with the way I designed this one, I _cannot_ make it slow-paced and damn, it frustrates and excites me at the same time because I am not used to write fast-paced sorry. What do you guys think, should I make it definitely fast-paced?

Not much to say on this chapter. Ah! Have you guys any idea of what Beleth's powers are? Dropped some hints here and there but they are subtle, really.

Well, I AM late but I feel like I'm writting loads of absurd shit. Is that me or there are more mistakes over the time? Don't have time for proofreading lately. Grrr, damn english. Ah, no I really like english but right now, it pisses me off.

Well, next time then ! Cheers ~


	7. The Most Trusted Person

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter VII: Most trusted person

* * *

 _Ignorance was crying._

"…"

 _Ignorance was crying._

"…"

 _Ignorance was crying._

"…"

 _Ignorance was crying._

"…"

 _Ignorance was crying._

"… _idiot."_

 _Faintly, her hand brushed his cheek. The sole remaining of the Twelve gasped softly and clutched her frail hand in his quaky ones, begging her to stay conscious, begging her to stay here with him. She exhaled slowly, etching in her memory her last moments with the man she had come to appreciate after all this time._

" _You…" Her voice broke and dissolved into a coughing fit. She ignored him when he begged her not to strain herself. "You are… stronger… than_ _ **her**_ _. The witch couldn't… wouldn't dare to rise… rise against you. In this world, you are… Ignorance, you are–"_

 _Ignorance froze when she breathed her last breath. His mouth opened but no words came out and he stayed here, eyes fixated on the unmoving form of the woman he had loved more than anyone else. Hundreds– no thousands of years went by since his four friends – Fear, Love, Suffering and Age – had died and after all this time alone, seeking Wisdom and Valor, he had stumbled upon her. Yet again, he was all alone. Wordlessly, Ignorance buried his face in the dead woman's chest, fingers digging into the ground._ _ **What,**_ _he wanted to scream,_ _ **in this world I am what?!**_

* * *

 **Composure**

* * *

Reim was a tropical country. Typically, the weather was hot and humid during daytime. The nights could get chilly however. Most of the time, the revealing togas people were wearing during daytime would disappear at night under warm fur coats. Reim wasn't humid enough though to be poured upon therefore the fur coats still stayed relatively light. Fanalis whose constitution were on a totally different scale as humans didn't feel the coldness the same way common people did and none of the one who lived in Reim at the moment had ever needed to cover themselves to be protected from the cold. The weather would need to be more aggressive to ever affect any of the fanalis, half-blood or not. Yet, Noor Peyrus couldn't help but quiver. She was hugging herself tightly, barely half a foot away from Lo'lo, so close that she could feel his body heat. The weather had nothing to do with her shivers however. The weather couldn't be more aggressive in Reim. The weather couldn't, _but Muu Alexius could_.

Muu's anger was legitimate. _All of their anger were_. His wrath was both expected and comprehensible. To see Muu Alexius of all people however, break someone's ribs in a fit of rage was staggering. Muu was probably the calmest of them all, calmer than herself even. Unlike her, he wasn't forcefully restraining his temper and concealing it behind a businesslike façade. Muu Alexius _was_ calm and never lost his temper lest it prevented him from thinking rationally. Right now though, it seemed that losing his temper wasn't an issue anymore seeing that he wasn't even trying to hold his killing intent back.

It was her first time being exposed to it and she was getting goosebumps. It was subtle but since she was so close him, she could feel Lo'lo's shivers as well. _Then, even he could feel that_. At first when she had met Lo'lo, she had wondered why such a man would follow someone like Muu Alexius. Granted Muu had conquered a dungeon but Lo'lo was dangerous, _very_ dangerous and probably stronger than all of them. _Why would he follow him?_ She understood now. She understood that Lo'lo wasn't stronger than Muu, _far from that_. She couldn't grasp the reason, but intuitively she knew that he was the strongest of them all. Call it a primal instinct or whatever, she was sure that Lo'lo was feeling it as well.

"I'll– I'll talk!" Their detainee cried out. He was writhing in agony on the floor and little Noor could hear the utter terror in his voice. _Muu would kill him if he didn't tell everything he knew_. Both she and their captive were aware of that. "I'll tell everything I know so please… don't kill me!"

She adverted her eyes when he tried to make eye contact, her own anger bubbling up in her stomach. _He was asking for pity_. Unfortunately for him, neither Lo'lo nor she had mercy. _No_ , they were too **bitter** and **resentful** to have any mercy for anyone. The only one who could take pity on him was Muu and considering his state of mind, he would probably kill him without a second thought. Muu was kind, compassionate and fair. Fanalis were sometimes more beastly than human however and when family was involved, they tended to act like beasts. This man had laid a hand on two of his _pack members_ **[1]** , he _would pay_.

"Talk." Lo'lo barked next to her, eyes narrowing dangerously.

The man's eyes widened, _he was probably realizing that he wouldn't get out of it alive_ , and began sweating, eyes madly darting between the three of them.

"Talk." She demanded next, fingers twitching with the urge throttle him. "Talk or I swear, living or not won't be your primary concern anymore."

Prostrate on the floor, he raised desperate and defeated eyes toward Muu, cowering in fear at what he saw. Muu's back was facing them and she had no idea what he looked like at the moment. She could imagine his frozen and deadly expression though, given the tension that was electrifying the air.

"I– The boss has had his eyes the on the girl for a long time." He stammered, members shaking in fear. "Sh– She has no use for anyone, no one knows her and the only person she spends her time with is the pompous advisor. Only she should've noticed and since she is all talk but no actions, it shouldn't have been a problem. You weren't supposed to be here, the girl shouldn't have had a brother!"

 _ **What?**_

"Go on." Muu ordered, his voice quiet but holding an undeniable strength. _Muu Alexius was an Alpha, a pack-leader_. "Where is she now?"

"I don't know." The man confessed pitifully and he flinched from Muu at whatever reaction he got from him. "B– But I know where they're supposed to take her! She's… she's going to be taken to _Parthevia_! From _Parthevia_ , she'll head straight toward _Delinmar_ **[2]**! That's all I know, I swear that's all I've been told!"

 _He wasn't lying_. He probably was an underling who had been told nothing lest this kind of situation arise. She heaved a sigh and her eyes caught Lo'lo's, his grim expression enough to convey intentions. _However you wish_ , she mouthed, scrunching up her nose. She was done with this fool and Lo'lo could have fun with him – even if only one of them would enjoy himself in the end – for all she cared. Wordlessly, she turned around and walked away, not interested to know what would happen to this man. He was most likely going to die anyway, killed by either Muu or Lo'lo. She would use this precious time to check on Naseem who had yet to wake up since they had found him. 6 hours had already passed since the discovery of Myron's abduction.

Three things had occurred after that. They had sneaked into the Peyrus Household, and tended his wounds in her bedroom, using Yana and Maia's aid. Since she had been forced to make Yana swear that she would stay tight-lipped on the matter for a good twenty minutes or so, they had wasted a lot of time. Then, they had been expressly summoned by the Great Priestess – _little Noor knew that the whole operation had been a poor idea_ – and for the first time since her arrival in Reim, she had feared Scheherazade. Or rather, the magi's ability to force them on their knees and lecture them for a good 2 hours or so. _How had she even got wind of their idea?!_ The magi didn't want the affair to spread though and had officially ordered them to investigate on the matter to save Myron as discreetly as they could. _Only the three of them_.

Little Noor pursed her lips, feeling annoyance creep up. _**Everything is happening because no one takes you seriously**_ , hissed her inner voice, full of disdain, _**how could they when everything you're doing is wasting your time? What does running after people's esteem bring you?**_ Sulking and drowning in self-deprecating feelings wouldn't bring her anything, she had to keep her head straight on the matter at hand, namely Myron's rescue. She paused, hand stilling on the doorknob when something crashed inside her bedroom. After a few seconds of stillness, her brain seemed to proceed that something was happening because she kicked the door open, left hand hovering over her short sword and body bent forward, ready to pounce at whatever intruder inside. All her wariness vanished however at the sight that greeted her. Naseem was sprawled over the floor, shaky hands gripping the satin-smooth blankets, face contorted in pain. He was huffing and puffing but seemed fine whatsoever. It seemed that despite her antipathy, Maia was competent.

"Naseem…" She breathed slowly, relief washing over her when he whipped his head her way with wide eyes.

"What–"

She didn't let him time to finish and dive into him, crashing into his recovering body and ignoring his strangled shriek. Naseem – who certainly wasn't used to such displays of affection, _and damn his body was already all sore did she really need to add to his pain?!_ – hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, flinching slightly when she buried her nose in the crook of his neck with a strangled sob. _Was she crying?_ _Why would she cry for him?_ He awkwardly yet softly rubbed her back, a smug smile threatening to appear on his face.

"Naseem," she started, voice muffled, "are you alright?"

He shuddered when her breath tickled his neck and even though he knew he shouldn't, tightened his grip on her and ran a hand through her hair to ease her worries. Naseem liked to fool around, everyone knew that and what's more he loved was to tick Noor Peyrus off. _This too serious to enjoy herself, strong and yet so lonely woman who was so similar to him_. He started when she raised her head to look at him straight in the eyes, ruby-red eyes scrutinizing his face, seeking a detail that could comfort her in her idea that he was suffering and trying not to show it. Naseem snorted at her almost obsessional concern. His hands left her hair and he pushed her away – rather forcefully given the difference between their physical strength – and sighed when she frowned disapprovingly.

"I'm fine, really. Not if you keep crushing me with your herculean strength, though."

She flicked his forehead, not appreciating his laidback attitude in the least bit but the heavy scowl had left her face and she was gazing at him somewhat fondly, a disturbing experience in Naseem's mind. Naseem leaned toward her and cupped her cheeks with his hands, giving her a boyish grin.

"Were you worried?"

"Dead worried." She corrected flatly, face expressionless.

Naseem facepalmed at such bluntness. His eyes softened as he observed her obviously relieved form and once more, he felt this strange feeling warm his stomach, his mind screaming to finally relent and accept the obvious. Ignoring this perplexing feeling, he focused his attention on her again and more precisely on her fleeting eyes. Why would she–

 _Myron_.

"Where is she?" She adverted her eyes and Naseem understood. "Where the hell is ugl– _Myron_? These guys, they came down on us and…" His eyes widened as he seemed to recall a particular detail and he breathed softly,"… _magic Tools_."

"You mean that to put her out of commission, they used _Magic Tools_?" She scowled when Naseem nodded vehemently, pursing her lips with lack of understanding. _Where would they find Magic Tools_? "It is senseless. Reim does not own any high class magician apart from the magi. _Delinmar_ is not developed enough to create something as progressive as Magic Tools and Balbadd doesn't have any magician I think. Magically speaking, there's no country able to achieve such a feat. What are we– what am I missing?"

 _What country could be advanced enough to produce Magic Tools_? Magically speaking, only Reim, Parthevia and maybe Kou had the resources to do so. The Seven Seas Alliance was a force to be reckoned with as well, notably thanks to the number of dungeon conquerors they owned. Sinbad was the greatest threat though, with his seven djinns. Despite their military strength however, none of the countries members of the Seven Seas Alliance owned a developed magical department. It left only two options since the problem couldn't be internal. _Parthevia or Kou_? What country could be foolish enough to strike out at Reim?

"Is she–" Naseem's sudden hoarse voice broke her concentration and she decided that talking about it with Muu would be the best solution. "Myron, I mean, will she–"

"We'll find her." She cut him off, absolutely certain that wherever she was, they would find Myron no matter what Magic rubbish they had use to conceal her odor. _We will find her and they will pay_ , she added silently, eyes darkening.

The door behind her opened at the same moment but she didn't react, the smell of metal, weed **[3]** and smoke – as well as _blood_ – assaulting her. _Muu and Lo'lo were done_. Her lips twitched downward as her thoughts drifted to the utter _scum_ she had left behind with the two men but feeling the curious gaze of Naseem weighing on her, she smoothed out her expression.

"You're fine." Muu exclaimed somewhat cheerfully and little Noor shivered at the edge in his voice.

Naseem seemed to catch it as well for he was gazing at Muu somewhat carefully, as if seeing him for the first time. Muu's animosity had nothing to do with Naseem however, so the boy shouldn't feel threatened stupidly and definitely not in this situation. As gently as she could considering his recovering state and absolutely disastrous physical condition, little Noor nudged him in the elbow to attract his attention and patted him on the head, messing with his curly locks to provide him reassurance.

"Why the scared face, kid?" Lo'lo sneered in his overly-conceited way, "doing the sissy much?"

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his light snicker. If he was within her range, she would have elbowed him in the gut to shut him up. Naseem seemed to get something that she had missed though, for he gave a toothy grin to the two males in her back. Satisfied with his current situation, she turned around. Muu's face was still frozen, probably restraining his anger to the best of his capabilities. Something seemed to have changed however since his posture was more relaxed than earlier. Lo'lo – who wore his emotions on his sleeves – was calmer as well and his sarcasm was finally back.

"We need to talk."

The calm couldn't stay any longer however, as the missing information finally clicked in place.

* * *

 **Hubris**

* * *

" _Magnostadt_?"

Scheherazade gave no outward reaction, only tilting her head slightly.

"I've heard rumors, but I didn't give them much credit since there hasn't been any solid proof. Magnostadt is a small country built on the remnants of _Musta'sim_ _Kingdom_. Full of magicians according to the reports. Its expansion resembles Kou's fast development. Since magic reigns over the country, I think Magnostadt is most likely to produce Magic Tools than Parthevia or Kou whose magical field are most certainly far less advanced."

"I understand your point." Muu pipped up, frowning at her reasoning. "But why would Magnostadt jeopardize itself this way? These are only speculations at the moment but should we relate Magnostadt with Myron's abduction, the country would surely end up in an unfavorable disposition."

 _Incomprehensible and senseless_. Though actively developing itself, Magnostadt was far from being able to rise against Reim. It would be both foolish and suicidal. Thanks to the _Department of Research and Development_ , Reim could brag about being the most military advanced country. The _Gunpowder_ , their latest experimentation had proved itself successful enough to destroy whole parts of cities. Parthevia could have compared if not for the war against Reim 10 years ago that had considerably slowed down its progression. Since then, Parthevia was lacking behind. Kou couldn't compare to Reim either since its development was still too fresh. Scheherazade had been protecting Reim for more than 200 years after all, no wonder the country was so stable.

"That's because Magnostadt is merely an indirect third party." Scheherazade reasoned after a few second of silence, lowering her staff. "You said that you suspected Magnostadt of being involved in the matter Noor, didn't you?"

"I did." Little Noor agreed hesitantly, trying but failing to see what Scheherazade's point was.

"It doesn't necessarily mean that Magnostadt's involvement – if only they are involved – has direct repercussions on Myron's abduction. If Magnostadt has provided the merchant Magic Tools, they are not necessarily the one who ordered it. If Magnostadt is involved, its involvement is only minor. As a rising country, they wouldn't be foolish enough to willingly attack Reim this way."

 _Trust Scheherazade to shed light on a matter that seemed incomprehensible seconds before_. Little Noor's lips twitched upward despite herself, amazed by the woman's wisdom. Scheherazade was over 200 years after all. She had inexhaustible wisdom and an experience that couldn't be compared to theirs. Even if she would never admit it aloud, little Noor felt blessed to actually be able to stand near such an amazing individual. She had never been close to her enough to attend one of her body's changing unlike Muu – because deep down, she knew that Scheherazade didn't trust her enough, she wasn't her appointed King candidate after all – but being able to stand alongside her like she was doing filled her with both joy and pride.

"Then we are dealing with slave traders and not merchants." Muu deduced aloud, half a second before her. "They'll try to sell her in the black market."

" _Pippo_." Pipped up a voice behind them all and everyone turned at once to see Naseem sheepishly scratching his nose.

He was all bandaged up and little Noor could see bruises underneath his clothes, yet here was he, standing as if nothing was wrong. _Maybe, just maybe she had underestimated Naseem's stubbornness._ Each occupant of the room missed the way Scheherazade's normally closed eyes opened slightly to openly glare at the young teenager. Her lips formed a thin line and something sharp passed in her eyes. The moment passed quickly however for when they glanced at Scheherazade once more, they only saw her passive face.

"Who is 'Pippo'?" The magi asked not unkindly, her features softening as she was focusing on Naseem.

" _Oh_. The guy who snatched Myron. I guess." He raised his hands in the air as if defending himself when Lo'lo's hostile glare tried to drill a hole in his face. " _Hey_ , I rushed here when I realized I knew who the dude was, okay? Damn, I knew I had seen his face somewhere. I've seen him in Parthevia once. He's some kind of super merchant on the surface but some wicked slave trader in the truth who only bothers himself with the 'gems' as he calls them. Delinmar is his favorite trading country because really, does this country actually know what laws mean or is it just for embellishment? Anyway, that's where he'll probably take her. And that's where the problem lies. If she sets a foot out Reim, we'll never find her again. The guy is like untraceable and–"

"Naseem." Muu cut him off gently, patting him on the head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. "We're not mad at you. Relax."

Hearing Muu's words, Naseem exhaled, visibly eased. Seeing his ragged breath and the sweat on his forehead, little Noor had no doubt that he had rushed here despite his condition at the exact moment he had realized he owned this particular piece of information. She felt her stomach swell up in pride, struggling to keep a smug smile off of her face. What she had not expected however, was Naseem taking a deep breath, stick out his chest and looking straight at Scheherazade with the firmest look she had ever seen on him, save for the day he had convinced her to attend the Sword Festival.

"Lady Scheherazade, I beg you, it is my fault Myron was taken since she was protecting me, let me help to retrieve her." He bowed lowly – lowliest than she had ever see anyone bow – fists clenched. " _Please_." He added as an afterthought, probably believing that adding it would give him more credit.

 _It did not_.

"You will go even if I order you to stay here and recover, won't you?" Scheherazade questioned, a fond expression briefly adorning her face. "You shall go then, Naseem. I count on you to provide the aid you can."

Naseem beamed, clasping his hand with determination. "Of course. I may not be proficient at fighting but I'm handsome and smart. I won't be a burden, I swear! I can't fight on my own, but–"

Little Noor scowled when Naseem latched onto her right arm, offering her a smile that could put the sun to shame. Making a face, she flicked his forehead to make him release her but his grip was surprisingly tight. Little Noor raised her eyebrows when Naseem gave her a cryptic smile before turning over toward Scheherazade and tugging at their linked arms.

"–as long as Noor's here, _I kinda am invincible you know?_ "

Little Noor snorted, intent on making fun of him till the end of his days. Unbeknownst to them, a bright butterfly sprouted up from the half-blood fanalis's earring and dived into Naseem's seal ring, the one he had obtained as a reminder of his country when he had cut all ties with it.

' _Thou shalt serve thine King and never betray him._ '

* * *

 **Ferociousness**

* * *

 _Myron Alexius felt sick_. Her head was throbbing and she was nauseous. About ten– no, dozens of odors were assaulting her and she felt like dying on the spot. _Blood, vomit, faeces, tears, putrefaction, urine, semen, death…_ She could go on. Hugging herself in the dark, ignoring the sobs around her, ignoring the empty eyes scrutinizing her, ignoring the raucous laughter and harrowing screams echoing in the distance. Her nails were digging in the skin of her thighs and blood was dripping but she didn't care– she didn't care. At the moment, Myron Alexius was fighting to keep herself together, to keep her sanity intact and not give in to panic. Noor was not here, Lo'lo was not here, Naseem was not here, _her brother_ was not here. She was all alone, left to her own devices and she had to stay strong. Someone would come and deliver her, somebody would necessarily come!

"You…" She started, eyes warily zeroing in on the small form half a meter away from her that had called out to her. It was dark, but she could distinguish their mahogany hair and tanned skin. "…fanalis, aren't'cha?"

 _A kid_. A little girl, captive here among these lifeless people.

"The name's _Razol_ , nice ta meet'cha _mate_."

Myron cracked a smile, relief washing through her veins. This girl– child was held captive here and yet, she was talking to her casually as if they weren't in such a dangerous situation. _A Fanalis_. _A fellow Fanalis_. Being able to meet a fellow fanalis in this kind of situation was both unexpected and thrilling. Beside her brother, Noor and Lo'lo she had never met any fanalis.

"Myron." She blurted out, not caring the least bit that Noor had almost beaten into her head that giving one's name without thinking could backfire. "My name is Myron. How did you end up–"

"Yaqut _wake up_! Hurry, there's someone I want'cha ta meet! _Damn_ , how much more of a lazy ass can you be? _Wake up I said!_ "

Myron's lips twitched upward when Razul– _Razol was it?_ poked something that looked more like a mop than an actual person with her foot. Myron gaped at the… whatever gender that thing– person was. They were fearless enough to sleep soundly in this place, full of creepy people. Granted they had been brought here against their will, and despite her naiveté Myron was no dumb and knew she was dealing with slave traders. These people were afraid because they were going to be sold and it was exactly why they needed to be strong. Exactly why _she_ needed to be strong.

"Razol." The child stopped her one-sided quarrel. "How long have you been here?"

"How long…?" Razol snickered lightly. "Ya weird, aren't'cha? How should I know? 'For how long we've been here' don't matter, Myron. 'How long before we decide to force our way out' is important. So wanna go _out_ , _Myron_?"

There was something about Razol's smile. _Fierce_. _Bestial_. Myron felt her blood boil in her veins and offered the child a similar grin.

* * *

 **Contrivance**

* * *

" _What kind of mumbo-jumbo was that?_ " Lo'lo whispered not so discreetly and little Noor rolled her eyes. Granted he had never seen any magic spell.

"That's called magic, you dork." She snorted, mimicking his smug tone. (" _Who's the dork you brat!_ ") "Lady Scheherazade used it in order to pinpoint Myron's accurate location. More effective than your sense of smell to my mind."

She could almost see the invisible elbow that jabbed his chest and touched his pride right in its core. Serves him right for always picking them. While Lo'lo sulked, she quickened her pace to match Muu's, stealing a glance at his face and closed off expression.

"What it is, Noor?" He asked slowly, not once looking in her direction.

"I think we should take a break. We won't reach _Naporlia_ **[4]** before 5 days. Furthermore, we have walked all day long and the caravan is nowhere in sight. Rather than a break, we should stop for the night. Rushing there is our main priority but should we need to fight, our top form is required. We have to _rest_."

She sucked in breath when Muu's eyes flickered in her direction, something sharp passing inside them. For a split second she braced herself, just in case Muu finally lost it. She felt Lo'lo edge closer in her back. Then the second passed and Muu sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"You're right. Let's set up a camp for the night."

Thank Solomon he was still sensible. They had left Reim 3 hours ago. Scheherazade had used her _Clairvoyance Magic_ – she had no idea how the magi had known Myron's rukhs in the first place – to locate her and had found out that Myron was heading toward Naporlia. Needless to say the slave trader had to head south to reach Parthevia therefore Naporlia was the perfect stop-off to get fresh supplies before crossing the border. Parthevia wasn't the safest country after all. Besides, according to Scheherazade's claims, right now in Parthevia was–

"About fucking time." Lo'lo grumbled under his breath.

Indeed, the caravan was catching up with them.

"What do we even need that _thing_ for?" It was fascinating, how in Lo'lo's mouth any word could turn into profanity. "Let's just run toward the damn city!"

"You never learn, do you? Muu-san's presence in Naporlia will be suspicious if he doesn't have any escort." _Even if everyone knows the escort is absolutely useless_ , didn't need to be add. "The caravan is merely insurance. It means that he's decided to come here incognito without being suspicious. Besides, it can serve as means of transportation for Naseem. Kills two birds with one stone."

She disregarded the " _why is the kid even coming with us if he can't walk by himself?!_ " Lo'lo never took in consideration the common people's limitations. For him, everyone was the same and he had difficulties to comprehend that humans and fanalis were completely different. Deciding that the issue could be dealt with later, she approached a tree large enough for two people to settle down against. Lo'lo was saying something but she tuned him out, closing her eyes to relish the peaceful atmosphere. It was totally different from Remano. Remano was always buzzing with excitement and never seemed to calm down. This forest however was lulling her with the sounds of the nature. _It was nostalgic_. She had lived like that before, when she couldn't remember but before this life in Reim she had lived somewhere where she could perfectly hear the leaves rustling and the birds chirping **[5]**.

 _My friend, do you fly away now?_

 _To a world that abhors you and I?_

 _All that awaits you is a somber morrow_

 _No matter where the winds may blow._

She recited wordlessly, perfectly remembering the countless poems **[6]** she had read in _Annals of Earth_. The book didn't look like a book at all but rather a diary. A diary inside of which someone who had lived a long, _long_ time ago was trying to narrate everything they had lived. She could be mistaken of course, but something about this book was so appealing… so _true_ , that she couldn't help but believe everything that was written inside. How the Twelve had lived, how nine of them had died, how the three remaining had disappeared, how one of them had found companions, how they had awoken two sleeping entities, how the entities had mysteriously vanished in the nature, how the four companions had died and how devastated by his grief, the sole remaining of the Twelve had disappeared as well. Something about this story was so… _heartbreaking_. How Ignorance had never knew that–

" _Noor!_ "

Naseem was running toward her, waving his hands with a bright smile. A few steps behind him, Muu was talking with the caravan driver. Naseem stopped in front of her and his smile dropped at whatever expression he saw on her face. Wordlessly, the teenager sat next to her, his right shoulder touching her left one as if he was trying to provide her reassurance. She snorted at his attempt and got to her feet, letting him fall flat on his side. The three soldiers who were accompanying them offered her a vigorous nod and she waved at them in return, not minding her manners now that they were outside Remano. Silently, she sat next to Lo'lo who was lying on his back.

"Eager much?" She asked quietly, childishly poking his side.

He grunted in response, visibly not willing to talk. It was strange, how she was able to relate so easily to Lo'lo when they were so different. She hadn't felt this tiny link neither with Muu nor with Myron. It was probably because unlike the two others, they weren't born in Reim, in an affectionate family. She didn't know how things had gone for Lo'lo, but Mircela had died when she was only 3 and the next 5 years had been _hell_. She had no concrete memories but when she thought about this part of her life, she still felt phantom pain. Lo'lo was probably the only one who understood what Myron would go through if she were to be made a slave, apart from her.

"We're leaving in 6 hours."

She nodded had Muu who had made his way back to them and Lo'lo grunted, rolling on his side.

"When do we change watch?"

"Every two hours or so. Lo'lo you're first, try not to sleep soundly."

The fanalis grumbled, disgruntled to be the first one on watch but complied nonetheless. In less than half a minute, he was up and seated upright. Muu sat down where Lo'lo was mere seconds ago. Little Noor lay down on the floor, deciding to follow her own piece of advice and get some rest. The night was cold but for her, it was a mere inconvenience. Next to her, Muu hadn't moved and wouldn't probably but it was a given, and the reason why she had proposed this break when they could've go on for at least 3 hours. Muu wouldn't be operational when they'd arrive in Naporlia, the reason why Lo'lo and she needed to be in top form. _**Then sleep**_ **,** her inner voice berated her and she complied. She closed her eyes and nestled against Muu who patted her head absent-mindedly. _Funny how when she was trying to provide him comfort, he was comforting her instead_. Muu Alexius was a big brother all in all after all.

They broke camp before the sunset. The next days went by this fashion, setting up camp at nightfall and breaking camp before daybreak. The slave trader was at least a day ahead but considering the fact that he was transporting slaves in his caravans, they were gaining ground. If at first he was a day ahead them, he probably was only half a day ahead now. _Already in Naporlia_. He would need time to get fresh supplies however, probably half a day. It let them only a day to investigate from the moment they'd set a foot in the economic capital.

"The guy makes no mistake." Naseem was saying Muu, face abnormally serious. "He'll lie low until his departure. He doesn't necessarily hide, the more conspicuous, the less suspicious. If only we could get a sign, anything…"

"How about interrogating the local merchants? They'd know something." She suggested.

"Usually I'd say yes but we won't have time to ask everyone. Naporlia isn't exactly a small city. Information brokers won't help either, he's probably a too valuable customer. Since remain anonymous is required, we'll have to gather information quickly but discreetly. Well, _back alleys_ it is."

The boy didn't let them time to react, he dragged– _dragged_ Lo'lo behind him, crying that he would meet up with them here in three hours. Little Noor snorted at his behavior, folding her arms. Naseem was oddly daring lately – since Muu's return – as if he was afraid that her attention would switch to the Alexius and she would forget about him.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess, we seek it thus and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest_." She declaimed absent-mindedly, relishing the comfort that provided her the familiar words. Muu gave her a puzzling stare and she answered with a sheepish smile. "My apologies. It seems like reciting poems from _Annals of Earth_ soothes my frayed nerves."

"Let's go."

 _Two lights cast their all-seeing eyes upon the spiral,_

 _Instructed of the great Will only to watch, never to interfere._

 _The lights raise their voices in harmony, Diva of the heavens,_

 _Singing of the world's end, a long-forgotten fate._

* * *

 **Brawn**

* * *

Myron Alexius crouched low, trying to merge with the shadows. Across from her, Razol was pressing herself against the wall right next to the door. In her position, Razol was invisible to whoever stood outside the cell. They briefly made eye contact, nodding to each other. Then, Razol silently gestured to the male who was sitting against the wall opposite to the door. Besides his monster-like appearance, he seemed to be a decent person. _As decent as someone who had never set a foot outside a cell and didn't even know what a fanalis was, thank god Razol who had been brought here way after him had taught him_ , _could be_. Myron inhaled deeply, cleared her throat and–

" _HELP! HELP!_ " Screamed at the top of her lungs.

She could feel Razol's surprised eyes on her but ignored them, focusing on the sound of panicked footsteps that were quickly approaching the cell. Appalled whispers broke inside the cramped space and Myron tensed, seeing from her spot a flustered rich looking man quickly approach the cell. She bent forward slightly, ready to pounce on him. The man stopped in front of the door, stared at each detainee inside the cell and cursed under his breath when he noticed hers and Razol's disappearance. He barked words in a language she couldn't understand and unlocked the door. Razol leapt on him. Faster than she had ever seen, she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him backward, out of the cell. Myron followed suit, jumping on the soldier alike man who was guarding the rich looking one. She elbowed him in the jaw and bent down when he unleashed his sword and tried to behead her.

"Don't hold back!" Razol screamed at her, kneeing one of them in the stomach. The man flew backward, crashed into a wall and promptly lost consciousness.

Not holding back meant that she could kill one of them if she wasn't paying close attention enough. _Kill_.

"Right now, it's kill or being killed. Don't fret over it, ya'll freak out later! _Fight Myron!_ "

The soldier alike thrusted his sword toward her midsection and Myron barely dodged in time, the tip of the weapon grazing her side. _Razol was right_. She would ponder over her actions later, right now she needed to fight back if she didn't want to be killed, if she wanted to see her family again. Myron breathed deeply, then crouched when the man tried to stab her again. Mustering all her strength, she kicked him in the side, feeling her foot sink in his abdomen and crush his ribs. The man flew to the side, body unnaturally twisting and fell flat on the floor, unmoving. She turned away from her victim, trying not to think too much of what she had she done and the rich looking man froze when she glared at him under her lashes.

"Don't move." She hissed lowly, venom dripping from her tone.

He stayed still, slowly raising his hands toward the sky to appear the most harmless possible. Myron snorted disdainfully and folded her arms, staring at him deadly should he attempt anything. More used to the other occupiers of the cell than her, Razol began to usher them outside, trying – and failing – to reassure them as for what was about to come.

" _So… what next?"_

Myron jumped, whirling around to face Yaqut who had silently slid behind her back. Yaqut was creepy for lack of a better word. His hair were so long that they reached his waist, partially hiding his face and he was moving around as if he had the whole world's weight on his shoulders. The man knew nothing beside his name, not even his own age. From what he said, Yaqut had always lived here and from what Myron could gather, he probably was just a bit older than Noor, maybe 20. 20 years of isolation, solitude and ignorance.

"We're going out."

"Thanks miss obvious, I think I've understood that much." Yaqut sneered sluggishly and Myron felt her eyebrows twitch with the urge to punch him. "I mean, after that. Ya just gonna let everyone fend for themselves while a lot of these people have lived all their life in this cell? Freeing everyone is good an' all but _what next_?"

Myron's eyes widened as Yaqut sighed and followed Razol's lead, toward the exit. It was true, they had freed them from their condition but most of these people had lived here their whole life and had no idea what the real world looked like, _how would they live once they'd be outside?_ Neither she nor Razol had thought twice about that before taking their decision, not bothering themselves to consult the others. _What if they didn't want to be freed_? _What if they were too afraid of the outside world to actually allow themselves outside_? **No.** Being confined in such an enclosed space without being able to feel a breeze or the warmth of the sun was a punishment. Freedom was the only requirement for a human being, in her eyes. If she were to ever lose her freedom, Myron would probably go mad. All the more so as she was a fanalis.

"Touched a sensitive area, hasn't he?" The rich man sneered, folding his arms.

"Shut up and walk." Myron grumbled grumpily, kicking his rear to force him to move.

Myron scowled at him when he snorted, looking down on her despite his position. He moved forward nonetheless, hands prominently on either side of him. _Good_. Should he attempt anything suspicious, she'd rip off his throat. _What are they doing?_ Myron felt a pang of nostalgic, thinking that in this kind of situation, Noor would probably surprise her with an out of the blue poem. _As usual_. Lo'lo would probably piss her off with his snarky comments, denying her any shred of femininity. Right at this moment, Naseem would probably put his two cents worth in, commenting on her so-called obvious ugliness. Muu would be the one to conclude, ushering everyone outside and patting her on the head while saying in his eyes, she was the cutest thing. Myron Alexius was longing for her friends, _her family_. Her lips curled slightly as she was finally experiencing the helplessness both Noor and Lo'lo had felt before their arrival in Reim. Hers was probably negligible in comparison with theirs, she couldn't even fathom the depth of the despair they had gone through.

"They'll die."

Myron's scowl deepened, sharp eyes settling on the rich man who looked strangely calm considering his situation. Not from the western country for sure, his features were totally foreign to her. According to Noor, he was from Balbadd, a coastal city edged by a huge desert. Despite the tropical weather, Balbadd's inhabitants were more dark-skinned than the people in Reim. She had already seen the King of Balbadd once, from afar. This man's features had nothing in common with King Rashid's. They were more exotic, more… eastern-ish. _Where was he really from_?

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Stupid girl." He hissed angrily and she narrowed her eyes. "You've just wasted my perfect merchandise. Pleased with yourself, aren't you? They won't have time to set a foot outside, I've got an army to get rid of them should anyone attempt and succeed to run away. Tch', such perfect pieces of jewelry and it'll end in a bloodbath. A pity, really."

"What–"

Screams cut off her voice. Horrified, Myron whirled around toward the exit, just in time to see a blond-haired woman who was clutching her son get stab in the chest and fall on the floor. The child – not older than 5 – blinked, then nudged his mother to get her to wake up, she wouldn't wake up anymore though. Horrified, Myron felt her body go limp. She stared aghast as a man, whose bulk was probably twice Lo'lo's one – was than even possible? – grabed the child's collar and lifted him up. _No, don't–_

" _STOP!_ " Myron screamed, watching helplessly as the bulky man threw the child to the side.

The boy flew, eyes widened with fear and a high-pitch scream escaping his lips. He crashed into the nearest wall, bones crushing under the collision's strength. Lifeless, his body fell on the ground, blood soaking his clothes and dripping on the floor. _Dead_. The child was dead, his eyes wide open but empty, his mouth slightly open in a silent scream. His eyes wouldn't light up anymore, he wouldn't be able to speak anymore, he wouldn't be able to move, smile or laugh anymore. _He wouldn't move anymore_. Myron's lips parted, limbs starting to shake violently. She didn't even react when large hands grasped her neck and chocked her. Deprived of strength, she fell on her back, not able to muster enough strength to fight back. Dark spots beagn to dance in her eyes, tears burning her eyelids. _She was dying_. She was being strangled to death and wasn't even able to fight back, wasn't even able to erase the image of the frail boy out of her mind. _She hadn't been able to save him_. Hot tears rolled along her cheeks and Myron closed her eyes, surrendering to her fate.

"… _awaken, Beleth_."

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ THERE. A day late only, nice. Didn't have time to proofread it so bear with the mistakes for now, I'll correct them later.

 **[1]** The pack thingy, right. I feel like fanalis are halfway between humans and animals. They walk, think and talk like humans most of the time but their instincts are that of animals. I thought the devotion they have for their family can be compared to that of packs. So... yeah, they form a pack and Muu's the Alpha. Not quite sure of the hierarchy, though.

 **[2]** Delinmar is a canon-country, check the world map out.

 **[3]** Not the drug of course.

 **[4]** Canon-city, I swear.

 **[5]** Actually, I felt kinda conflicted about this one sentence. I've read it hundreds of times aloud but it just don't seem to be right. Should I stick with this sentence or would ' _she could perfectly hear the leaves rustle and the birds chirp_ ' sound better? I dunno, I really don't know. _Damn English_.

 **[6]** I don't own them. They are FF-0 and FF7's properties. From the 'nameless tome' and 'Loveless' respectively.

This chapter was trouble. It deals with an issue that puzzled me. _Killing._ I mean, in Magi, people kill as if they were gardening. No trauma whatsoever. Well, it's a given they wouldn't be bothered by it since there are wars everywhere but still, I want to show how they've overcame this traumatizing experience and become able to kill without a single thought. It probably doesn't bother neither Lo'lo who lives according to the law of nature nor Muu who is the most matured of all them and knows how to weigh up the pros and cons. Neither little Noor nor Myron have ever killed though. First experience and its aftermath.

I hope Muu and Myron aren't too OOC. I try to take in account the fact that even if he is basically a calm person, even Muu can lose his temper if his sister is involved. As for Myron, she isn't quite the same character as in Magi (for now), she's younger and naiver.

Lo'lo-Noor relationship is complicated as well. Basically, they can see themselves in each other thanks to their past experiences but at different skales. Noor looks up to Lo'lo. Not quite sure for Lo'lo.

Naseem is a pain in the ass. Damn character.

The beginning is puzzling, don't bother with it. WELL, do bother with it but for now, I ain't sure you can understand why it is here.

 _Magnostadt._ Still far away from the war but don't forget Magnostadt for now, we're not quite done with it. The Seven Seas Alliance is not so far as well. _Damn that Sinbad bastard_. I can't help but loathe the character, I mean he's great and everything but I just can't seem to like it. Sinbad is awesome, he's one of the character who has the most potential. Potential that Ohtaka-sensei is exploiting right now. Damn you Ohtaka, I've been waiting for this development for I don't even know how many weeks. Or months. Or years. Well, whatever.

Yeah, I almost forgot, about the pace. Due to my inability to slow the pace of this story, it'll stay fast-paced. I tried, I swear I tried but I just can't get the hang of it. I don't think it's _that_ bothering though.

Now, I think we're good.

 _Huggies_ ~


	8. I Swore upon my Name

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter VIII: I swore upon my name

* * *

 _Noor Peyrus was weak_.

It had baffled him, at first. He had felt her miles ago, accompanying the individual that emitted strange rukhs. Her magoi was ridiculously low but even so, there was an air about her that was familiar. It had taken time but he had finally understood why he felt nostalgic around her. She was a descendant of the _Red_ _Lions_. He had been notified that the red lions couldn't belong to the new world because of their resistance to magic. To meet one of them– no, one of their descendant was going to make things interesting. He would take a great delight in discovering all her fears and insecurities and turn them against herself.

Ten minutes in the trial and he had felt _bored_. The girl was a _disappointment_. Many people had entered his dungeon and the only reason no one had conquered it yet was because of their straightforwardness. If there was one thing he hated most in humans, it was their stupid determination. _Not the determination in itself, but…_ Their foolishness in setting their goals in only one direction. Humans were fickle and frivolous, that was what the Djinn liked in them. No matter how much they tried to hide this flighty side of them, he could see through them easily.

Once before, at least 20 years before her arrival in his dungeon, he had almost– _almost_ offered his powers to a man. He had been one of the purest yet bitterest person the Djinn had ever seen. Unlike his actual King, he had had no wish to show self-denial to anyone. He had been selfish, wicked and strong. _Needless to say the Djinn had a soft spot for this kind of individual_. Despite all this darkness, the man was one of the purest soul he had ever seen. The Djinn had almost begged him to conquer his dungeon. Then, he had withstood depravity. Unlike the other Djinns, Beleth wasn't looking for a perfect candidate, someone who could face their greatest fears and overcome them. He craved for imperfection, someone who could face their fears and accept them as a part of them, accept their weakness and not get the better of them as if they had never existed in the first place. There was nothing worse than oblivion.

He didn't know how many years he had waited since everyone had left Alma Torran and he had ended up alone here, but the familiarity he had felt when the little fanalis had entered his dungeon had raised his hopes. Maybe the Djinn would finally leave his underground city. The kid had been an utter disappointment however. Like her _Red_ _Lions_ ancestors, her strength had to be considered. She was no stupid either. She had so many insecurities however, that he was surprised she hadn't been crushed by them all yet. Beleth's trial was simple. Anyone had their own, the only thing the Djinn asked was for his prospective kings to face them. She had dodged the hundred trials she had imposed herself until her false _Treasure Room_. _She had failed_. Beleth had found entertainment in watching her struggle vainly but even his patience had limits. He had planned to kill her, quite simply. Then, she had figured out how his dungeon worked and he had been too surprised to eliminate her immediately.

 _She had failed_. She had failed and yet, the Djinn had found something endearing in her ruby-red eyes. Maybe because before the war, before _Arba_ and the others' betrayal, before his _King_ and his followers' disappearance, he had had a soft spot for the incarnadine eyes of the _Red_ _Lions_. Maybe because she was a descendant of the bratty and haughty woman who had followed Arba everywhere, challenging her at each opportunity. There were so many reasons and yet, he wouldn't be able to justify himself if anyone ever asked him why he had decided to follow this girl who could probably die crushed by the weight of her anxiety. He had chosen her despite all her flaws, her blatant weaknesses. _Noor Peyrus was weak_. Beleth would see to it that these weaknesses didn't exist anymore.

* * *

 **Home**

* * *

 _Myron_.

Myron Alexius grumbled, cursing the damn person that had dared to intrude _her_ bedroom, opened the curtains and ripped off the blankets so that she would remain shivering on her sheets. What made the situation worst, was the fact that she knew she couldn't possibly complain. Her friend had that effect on her, in her presence her pride could crumble till nothing remained. She whined when her bed protested because of the weigh that suddenly weighed it down and sat up, groggily rubbing her sleepy eyes. Leisurely sitting beside her, Noor Peyrus was eyeing her coolly.

 _Myron_.

"It's been three hours since the sunrise, Myron."

"Cut me some slack, will ya?" Myron snapped, immediately regretting her behavior when her friend raised an eyebrow. "I mean, everyone is not as diligent as you. What should I even wake early for? 'Not like there is any task for me to do."

 _Myron_.

She pursed her lips, lowering her eyes to stare at her hands. As much as Noor was trying to make her feel important, she knew that her friend was simply wasting time on her precious schedule so that she wouldn't feel lonely. At first, when she had met Noor, she had disregarded her. She had thought the girl was merely stealing her Muu's attention and following the two old advisors around like a lost puppy. She had no idea what the solitude was. She could only be grateful as when it was her turn to feel this overwhelming loneliness, Noor was here to help her. She closed her eyes when Noor put her hand on her head and gently ruffled her hair. She was only two years older and yet, Myron was under the impression that Noor was at least ten years older. Unlike her, she was so calm, so mature and so self-confident. Deep down within her, Myron wished she was stronger. Helpful. _Not Myron_.

 _Myron_.

"I'm sure that someday, you'll find your place. You'll become someone able to change the course of our world, I have faith in you. One day, you'll find the purpose of your existence and will fight for it. _Promise me that you will_."

Myron averted her eyes, not finding in herself the will to promise such a thing. _Find her own purpose? Become an asset? But for whom?_ She would never fight for Scheherazade like Noor was doing because she simply did not wish to. The only person she had ever wished to fight for – _her brother_ – was gone. _What remained_? Shameful, she tightened her fists, missing the guilty expression that settled on her friend's face. At the rate things were going, Myron would stay undesirable and purposeless her whole life, no matter her friend's attempts at cheering her up.

 _Myron_.

 _Myron_.

" _Myron!_ "

Myron's eyelids fluttered opened. Her eyes were burning and tears were streaming down her cheek. _A dream…_? She breathed in to try and calm her pounding her and choked. Her throat was burning and the air was making its way through with difficulty. With her almost useless trachea, she was surprised that she hadn't suffocated to death yet. She closed her eyes briefly when a cool hand settled down on her forehead and when she opened them again, found herself face to face with familiar, widened and teary eyes. She blinked for a few seconds, trying to remember to whom these usually so serious eyes belonged to and emitted a pathetic gurgling in recognition. Her friend's eyes softened.

"Thank Solomon, you're alive." She whispered with evident relief, heaving a grateful sigh.

She shook her head to focus on much more pressing matters and pressed two fingers on her throat, freezing when Myron visibly winced, a strangled noise escaping her lips. Noor's face darkened as she took in her condition, relatively uninjured body but literally purple throat. Her eyes were red and puffy because of all her crying.

"Can you stand?" Noor asked quietly, narrowing her eyes when Myron shook her head. "Unsurprising. Both the lack of oxygen and the traumatism caused spasmophilia. I would've been more surprised if you had told me that you could walk. Hang on tight."

Myron felt silly when a few second later, she was given a piggyback by none other than her closest friend, feeling more like a toddler than a nearly grown-up. Her face flushed in embarrassment and she buried her face in the crook of her friend's neck to hide her burning face. Fortunately she did, for she missed the dozen of bodies spread out on the floor, unmoving. _None of them were breathing_.

She did not know how long she stayed like this, clutching her friend to provide herself reassurance rather than hiding her embarrassment because it felt surreal. Myron had pried whatever existing deity – _the sole God she was believing in was called Strength_ – to make her friends pop out of nowhere to save her. _They had looked for her_. In such a short interval too. _Noor_ , she wanted to call her friend, _thank you. Thank you for coming to my rescue_. Noor seemed like a friend that would stick with her through thick and thin despite the cold treatment she had given her when they were still children. _She was her most precious friend_. And deep within her, so deep that she wasn't even aware of that herself – or maybe she was but chose to ignore it anyway – these two _idiots_ had their place too.

Myron blinked when sunrays tickled her skin, opening her eyes to revel in the warmth of Naporlia. If felt like an eternity since she had last stepped a foot outside. She blinked, struggling to adjust to the daylight. Her eyes were swollen with tears and she felt like the lights were trying to burn her pupils. She mumbled insults under her breath, cursing the damn bastard that had dared to drag her in this mess. _Speaking of that bastard…_ Were the hell were Razol, Yaqut and all the others slaves imprisoned with her?

Despite her obvious relief, Myron could still feel the despair and the anguish that had made her skin crawl. She still remembered everything, the smells, the tears, the blood and the despondency. She still remembered these sickly feelings that had made her want to grovel and beg for freedom, _as disgusting as it seemed_. Even now, despite the warmth that was providing her friend, she still felt the lethal bite of death hovering over her and threatening to snatch away the respite she was given. She felt as if this friend of hers was a fake, ready to disappear at any moment and let her sink into darkness.

"If you are wondering," Noor started quietly and Myron jumped, having momentarily forgotten her presence, "where we are going right now, we're heading toward docks. The imperial guards are guarding this zone since the city has gone…pretty _wild_ as of late."

Myron blinked and opened her mouth to question her but the pain in her throat recalled her to order.

"Men dressed as soldiers are roaming the streets, soldiers are chasing them and freshly-freed slaves are running around everywhere. Muu-san and Lo'lo are hunting down the faux-soldiers and Naseem is trying to calm the panic-stricken citizens. I'll drop you off at the harbor – citizens are being gathered there to avoid an unwanted riot – and join in the frenzy. I need you to stay put. I'll chase after the former slaves. And the trader bastard by the way, he wasn't at his hideout. _Asshole_."

Myron snickered at the cursing. Considering her usual behavior – _this serious side of her pissed even_ _ **her**_ _off_ – it was always amusing to see her friend mutter profanities as if she was vomiting them. Usually, Myron would have protested and ordered her to take her with her. Right now however, she was feeling beaten, tired and strangely despondent. She wished nothing but to roll up into a ball and cry her heart's content until she had no more tears to shed. More than disheartened, she was feeling immensely weak, weak and useless. For the first time since she was born, Myron Alexius wished she could be protected. She wished she could hide behind someone else and wait. She wished she could be dependent of someone else.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry that even if you've just seen someone familiar in days, you're being left to your own devices again. But thanks to you Myron–"

" _LADY PEYRUS!_ "

Her friend stopped and when she glanced over her shoulder, Myron widened at the sight that greeted her. She was so familiar, so close to her that she often forgot what Noor's status was within Reim. She was the Magi's closest advisor which meant, a representative of Scheherazade's power and authority outside Remano. Noor Peyrus was a runner-up to the position of Reim's most influential person because in actual truth, even if no one would never admit it aloud, most of the citizens were sure that Scheherazade was the country's leader and the Emperor, some sort of powerless figurehead. With this in mind, if Scheherazade was Reim's number one person, Noor and Naseem were immediately following behind. They were Scheherazade's protégées. _Muu was her protégé as well but considering his unofficial position in the hierarchy, Scheherazade couldn't just claim him even if he was her King Vessel and a Dungeon Conqueror_.

Anyway, even when she was _hanging out_ with her friend back in Remano, she had never seen so many soldiers – _maybe a hundred? two hundred?_ – get down on their knees just to show respect for her. Worst, her friend didn't seem the least bit fazed by the situation, eyeing the soldiers blankly and face devoid of emotion. Now that she thought about it, Myron had never seen her friend perform her duties. Whenever they were walking in the street, Noor was just running around to help the elderly, most of them screaming at her because she was treating them as if they were valued vases ready to break at any moment.

"What is it?" Noor asked quietly. _There was an underlying tone that Myron couldn't quite grasp_.

"Report Sir! I-I mean Ma'am…" The soldier fumbled for the right words and Myron rolled her eyes, unnerved by his stuttering. _Why in the world was he stuttering in front of Noor of all people, the less intimidating person she knew_? "We've evacuated most of the streets and the noblemen shut themselves in their houses. Soldiers are ready and free to search the city. A detachment of fifty soldiers is waiting for your orders."

 _F-Fifty soldiers?!_

"I see. I shall praise your promptness. Despite the late notice, you have made quite the remarkable work." Noor mused, offering a polite smile to the soldier who immediately returned his gaze to the bricks beneath his feet.

"That is too kind of you, ma'am. Such low soldiers like us do not deserve these words."

 _So much for trying and complimenting them_. Noor seemed to think the same as her for Myron felt the tiny sigh that she let out. Brushing the flustered soldier's self-denial aside – Noor turned to the right, toward a man Myron had never seen before but seemed familiar to her friend.

" _Altair_. I need you to take care of Myron. Can I trust you with that?"

The man said nothing, didn't even move and yet Myron felt her friend relax as if his stoicism was something reassuring. The Alexius cringed when he finally moved and pried her away from Noor, feeling panic rise at the idea of being separated from the only person she was familiar with at the moment. The soldier's grip on her was firm however and unable to produce the least sound, Myron sagged against the soldier. Noor was standing with her back to her, hands on her hips as she was gazing at the soldiers in front of her, not once turning to check on Myron. Strangely resigned to this ridiculous situation, Myron let the soldier take her away. She did not see the way Noor's terrified eyes followed her frame, nor the way her fists tightened painfully, sick with nerves at the idea of leaving her alone despite having just retrieved her.

Limp against the forceful soldier, Myron blinked at the sight that greeted her, barely 500 meters away from the disciplined soldiers and their bashful demeanors. Several tents had been assembled. Distantly, she heard the soldier try to explain her that to stay out of harm, citizens had been brought here insofar as should they need to be evacuated, boats were ready to sail away. More surprising, the one who had come up with this idea was Naseem. He had ordered the guards to evacuate the citizens in a specific order so that a melee could be avoided. Myron knew that the bastard was cunning – cleverer than her anyway – but she did not think that he was capable to use that advantageous trait of his rightly. _Naseem was a real idiot after all, who only knew how to have fun and which buttons push to rile someone_.

Said Naseem who was, to Myron's utter shock, firmly ordering soldiers around as if he had done that his whole life. Well, he was a _former prince_ after all, it should be nothing surprising. Naseem glanced in their direction, scoffed, focused on the soldier in front of him again, froze mid-sentence and promptly turned toward them, mouth hanging open as if he had seen an otherworldly creature. He ditched the confused soldier to dash toward them, expression frighteningly serious and before Myron could move out of the way, smashed right into her and sent them both tumble across the floor. Disoriented and winded, Myron stayed sprawled on her back trying to catch her breath. She was struggling to do so considering the fact that Naseem was sitting on her stomach and crushing her lungs. The idiot peered at her face curiously and scrunched up his eyebrows upon seeing it reddening dangerously. _That damn bastard_! Despite the situation she was in, Myron stopped squirming under the idiot when he gave her a blinding smile.

" _Hey_ , ugly Myron. Missed me?"

Myron scoffed. _Hardly_.

" _Welcome back_."

There was something about the way Naseem said that. The unexpected warmth behind his words, the way his eyes softened or maybe the shred of guilt that flashed into them. Or maybe it was just the genuineness of the statement. Of all people able to bring tears to her eyes, Naseem had to be the idiot to succeed. Choked up, Myron could only nod weekly, hiding her puffy and teary eyes under her forearms. Silent accomplice of her breakdown, Naseem turned his head away, toward the open sea, not moving an inch.

 _I'm back_.

* * *

 **Resolution**

* * *

What would be later called as the ' _Incident of Naporlia_ ' found its solution in three stages. 4 days, 16 hours and 23 minutes.

Quite simply, really. It took 2 hours for the detachment of fifty soldiers to corner all the former slaves but they managed, in the end. A lot of these slaves were former hardened gladiators from the Colosseum however and unbeknownst to the population, these skirmishes created a lot of collateral damages, mainly market stalls. Because of the incident, Naporlia entered recession even after the crisis's resolution. Demonstrations broke out all over the city, protesting against the Emperor's obliviousness over his country. Pressurized by the population and getting no support from the Great Priestess, the Emperor had none other choice that to abdicate. His younger brother – that Scheherazade supported in secrecy and wished to ascend the throne – took over and in 3 months, managed to revive the economy within Naporlia.

Besides, Muu and Lo'lo who were having fun – _euphemism_ – chasing the false soldiers all around the city put their fingers on something much vaster than this simple affair. The truth, was that this smuggling in which Myron had mistakenly been involved was a mere branch from something much grander. Indeed, the human trafficking's network was huge and the more appalling was the fact that its core was situated in Remano. Yet, neither Scheherazade nor her advisers nor anyone had noticed. Even more, the mastermind behind all this was a valued and valuable nobleman who had cunningly cut all his ties with his organization beforehand. There was no proof that involved him directly in the matter. Trying and accusing him would be a misstep that none of them could allow.

Last but not least, despite the fiasco, something good had come up. Thanks to Myron's involvement, Muu had come across Yaqut and Razol. Razol was hugging the life out of Myron – _and crying because she had been beaten up to a pulp by an annoyed Noor_ – and freaking out about how she had no idea of what she was going to do now that she was outside as she had forgotten how people lived _outside_. Yaqut was even more pitiful, standing there and staring anxiously around him, looking very out of place and clearly frightened. As Noor was trying to ignore the hyper Razol while ordering the soldiers around, Naseem was fooling around Yaqut knowing very well that the dude was clearly uncomfortable, Muu had arrived and the sight of two more fanalis had confused him.

Upon seeing him, Myron had blacked out when Lo'lo had approached her and patted her head, hand lingering as if he was caressing something extremely precious and then he was gone, as fast as he had arrived. The next two days had been blurry as Myron had been forced on a bed, examined by a creepy doctor and forbidden to get up by a stern-looking Muu. 16 days later, as she was waking up in a familiar bed, in a familiar bedroom, in a familiar estate, in a familiar city, in familiar company, Myron finally realized that something big had happened and yet she felt detached, as if it had happened to someone else. Noor was by her side – _since she was back, she felt like her friend was stalking her_ – drawing the curtains open and Razol was here as well, sprawled on the blankets, preventing her from getting up.

 _Right_ , there was that too. Myron had no idea how she could have been at the root of it, but according to Noor's claims, she was. _The Fanalis Corps_. Even now, the term sounded foreign. In concrete terms, still according to Noor's words, her abduction had reminded Muu that nowadays, enslaving fanalis were daily occurrences. Myron had been the one imprisoned this time and Muu had been worrying but there were hundreds of fanalis scattered all around the world, without family, without a place to call home, desperately wishing they could one day be free. Neither she, nor Lo'lo who hadn't been born in Reim had ever talked to them about it, but once, Myron had caught the two of them whispering about a place called ' _Carthago_ ', their homeland. The only place in the world fanalis could come home, the place were their brethren were waiting for them. Myron did not know if her brother believed in this place called _Carthago_. She knew however, that as a fanalis – _Noor kept saying that it was because of some weird alpha instincts_ – he felt compelled to seek his kin and offer them a family replacement here in Reim. _Scheherazade had approved_. Quite strongly, in fact. _The new Emperor had approved as well_. (New Emperor no shit, Myron had hated his son's guts at the first sight, _Nerva Julius Caluades_ , was it?)

The most surprising in this situation, was that even if they were given the choice, even if Muu told them that should they prefer to leave and try and find _Carthago_ it was fine, both Razol and Yaqut had chosen to stay. It was not so surprising for Razol, considering her easy-going persona but _Yaqut?!_ Truthfully, Myron had trouble to understand him. The guy was a _mess_. His inner thought-process was blatantly obvious and damn, she had seen idiots in her life but the guy was nuts. According to Noor's words, several years confined in a prison could do that to people. Yaqut was a mere child in an adult's body, struggling to understand what was happening around him. _Amusing_ , according to Noor still, Lo'lo had probably been like that after he had been freed, only more aggressive. Several months by Muu's side had settled the problem. The only think Yaqut needed was _time_. Eventually, he would understand how children and adults were supposed to behave and act accordingly.

"I wanna be a member of my brother's _Household_." Myron blurted out randomly, surprising Razol that blinked curiously and Noor that froze mid-step.

Then, Noor muffled a sigh and rolled her eyes.

"About time."

 _Yes, it felt like everything was clicking into piece again_.

* * *

 **Kinship**

* * *

Exactly a year and 7 months later, Myron Alexius squinted her eyes at her friend who ignored her in favor of Razol who was trying – and failing – to hold her cup properly, visibly wincing when hot liquids burned her fingers. Myron groaned, still failing to get her friend's attention who was purposely ignoring her.

"Seriously," the Alexius barked hotly, glowering at Razol who immediately put the cup down on the table, "that _bastard_ was tarnishing brother's name! I should've shoved his sword so far up in his–"

"I am quite sure," Noor cut her off smoothly, arching an eyebrow, "that you did not wish to end this sentence, did you?"

 _Shut up and get back to your tea. If you try to jeopardize your brother's position once more, I'll train my Djinn on your face_. It was surprisingly easy, after all this time, to see through her friend's composure. As pleasant as she was trying to make herself seem, Myron could see the wild and ruthless fanalis underneath her mask. It seemed that Razol could as well, for she shivered ever so slightly and discreetly scooted further over from Noor. Myron sighed soundly but dropped the subject, scrunching up her nose in distaste. Noor ignored her and sipped her tea thoughtfully. Razol glanced between the two of them and rolled her eyes. She had been in Reim long enough to see how they interacted with each other and it was still ridiculous even after a year time. Myron followed her brother around like a lost puppy – a _rabid_ lost puppy – and barked at anyone who dared to badmouth him. During her third month in Reim, Razol at laughed to tears because Myron had destroyed a market stall where people had glared at Muu as he was walking in the street. _Even more awful, Lo'lo had helped her_. Watching Noor running around to try and clean their mess was entertaining.

"Isn't tha crown prince's birthday coming soon?" Razol asked randomly to ease the tension.

Myron cringed visibly and even Noor stiffened, both of them furrowing their eyebrows. Razol smiled widely, aware of the general distaste everyone seemed to have for the brat. _A brat probably older than her but a brat still_. She had seen him once, from afar and had more or less understood the reluctance everyone had to visit him. She had never seen someone look down so much on Noor that the girl had seemed to shrink under his attention. Myron had blown up faster than Razol had ever seen but fortunately, Naseem had been here to conveniently and accidentally push her in a nearby canal. Even if Myron had tried to strangle him afterward, Razol had ever seen Noor seem so grateful.

"The Emperor is organizing a grand banquet to celebrate it. We ought to attend it of course, as representative of our respective families." Razol knew that families, titles and everything was important. _Myron seemed like a hopeless case however_. "We ought to gift him with a magnificent present as well and I do not know what this pompous brat would be actually willing to accept."

Trust miss manners to sneak an insult in her deferent words. _Vixen_.

"Why should brother even bow down before that bastard…" Myron grumbled and Noor rolled her eyes because such devotion was slowly turning into fanaticism.

"I know someone who's gonna to be jealous." Razol mused in a conspiracy tone and giggled when the two others stared at her blankly. "What? Not me fault if Yaqut hasn't got over his obsession of meeting a rich noble lady an' become a 'gold-digger Fanalis'." She was trying very hard not to laugh at the end of her sentence.

Both Myron and Razol snickered and Noor gazed at the two younger girls somewhat fondly, quietly sipping her tea. It was peaceful. _Almost too peaceful_. Being able to enjoy a cup of tea – because Myron had pressed her to show her how a proper lady had to behave so that she wouldn't shame her brother – with her two friends, in the garden of the Peyrus Estate. Muu, Lo'lo and Yaqut were absent, following a rumor that said a slave-exchange would occur at the border with Parthevia. Since Yaqut and Razol had joined the makeshift Fanalis Corps, Muu was actively seeking his brethren. The number of Fanalis in Reim had gone from 6 to 14 in a year and six months. Seeing that their number would only increase, with Ignatius Alexius's aid and the Emperor's cooperation, Scheherazade had ordered the building of an Estate in which they would reside. Even if herself technically still lived in the Peyrus Estate, she was spending so much time with her follow fanalis that she was almost living here herself.

" _Oy_."

The three of them turned toward the newcomer, raising their eyebrows expectantly. All the members of the Fanalis Corps knew that when Myron was taking her decency's lessons, they should absolutely not bother them. Myron was ill-tempered at best and tended to bent out her frustration on whoever passed by. Since then, a silent agreement had passed within the Estate that for two hours' time, they should be left alone. As far as one knew, Razol was the only one who could bear these nightmarish lessons. Speaking of being a bother, the newcomer – not that he was unwelcomed – looked definitely uncomfortable under both Myron and Noor's glares. He was relatively new, if Razol remembered correctly, he had arrived only two months ago, no wonder that the other had sent him to fetch them. _The cowards_.

"The Chief, Lo'lo and Yaqut are back. 'Needing ye over there, there're newcomers."

Noor only nodded politely, suppressing the urge she had to flinch at his voice. It had taken her 8 months to teach both Razol and Yaqut how not to butcher her beloved language and she had no strength left. Even for her, teaching about ten people how to speak properly was exhausting. She just put up with it and tried to ignore the way her ears were bleeding each time one of them was opening their mouth. Silently, she stood up and followed their messenger, hurrying up when the odor of dirt, dried blood and mud assailled her. A resigned sigh escaped her lips at the sight that greeted her when she reached the entrance, making her ways through her peers to welcome the three men and the newcomers. Lo'lo was drenched in blood – probably not his – but a suspicious wound adorning his abdomen. He was smirking cheekily still, smugness radiating from him, ignoring the stench that was emitting his injury. Both Muu and Yaqut looked relatively unharmed save for harmless cuts. Two children – maybe not children but definitely younger than Myron, it meant children – were hugging themselves in front of the three men, eyeing everything around them anxiously.

"Take care of them." She ordered no one in particular.

She walked passed them, eyes glued on Lo'lo and his gloating face. She scrunched up her nose and grabbed his ear without stopping, dragging him behind her despite his protests. _Really, that idiot_. However invincible the Fanalis he thought to be, an infection, a fever and he would be down. Not that an idiot like Lo'lo who only thought with his muscles would know that. _That idiot_. She pushed him in a nearby chair, pinned him down with a deadly glare and went to fetch a first-aid kit. The Estate wouldn't even own one if she hadn't been cautious enough to request one. These simple-minded idiots all thought they could heal with their willpower or whatever. She felt like a bossy mother, always berating them. That being said, feeling like a dictatorial mother meant that they truly were forming a family. That fact in itself seemed satisfying. She kneeled down in front of the grumbling fanalis, gesturing him to move the piece of cloth out of the way. Unsurprisingly, the wound had started to get infected.

"Will you ever stop being so reckless?" She wondered aloud, plunging a cloth in a bowl of water and wringing it dry.

Lo'lo scoffed but said nothing. Silently, she washed the injury, stitched it up and bandaged him. She resisted the urge to jab his exposed chest and stood up, staring at him intently. Lo'lo rolled his eyes – probably already used to her scolding – and gently patted her head to get her to shut up. She huffed, unable to berate him when he was coaxing her to avoid her tiring rant. She turned her head sideways and folded her arms on her chest, scrunching up her nose distastefully. Lo'lo snorted at her behavior and shrugged, more or less used to her maternal instincts.

"How was it this time?" She asked quietly, straining her hearing to hear what was happening with the new arrivals.

"Same as usual." Lo'lo answered evenly, his gruff voice echoing in the room. "Got a good work out, though."

 _Of course_.

"Tested your Household Vessel yet?"

Lo'lo scowled and she resisted the urge to smirk. That man was too full of himself to accept his failure. Still, it was probably hard for Lo'lo who had always relied on his overwhelming strength to trust something else. Add in the fact that Fanalis had ridiculous amounts of magoi, not wonder he struggled using it. Not that she was one to talk, she still was unable to equip her Djinn completely and in a few days, it would officially be 8 years since she conquered Beleth. _8 years and still unable to wield her Djinn properly_. Her only comfort was the fact that Muu still hadn't master his equip as well. _Mortifying fact, Myron who had been recognized as a member of Barbatos's Household 11 months ago was already able to master his powers_. Both she and Lo'lo had felt disheartened when they had learnt it.

"The smuggler?"

"Goner."

She nodded and turned on her heels, Lo'lo following suit, both of them intent on seeing what the growing noise was about. Obviously, the source of the noise had to be the other representative of the magi – when the hell had he even arrived here? – hotly arguing with Myron. Most of the other fanalis were warry of Naseem and his odd behavior, shamelessly antagonizing Myron and yet, running after herself wherever she went. None of them had opened to the boy, not that said-boy did any effort in trying to befriend any of them.

"I'll ground you." Noor interjected flatly, successfully halting whatever debate they were having.

Myron glowered at her, probably about to yell at her that she was not child anymore and couldn't be grounded, but Noor raised an eyebrow, daring her to oppose her and Myron promptly shut up. Satisfied, little Noor turned toward Naseem who was grinning from ear to ear and glared at him sternly.

"How many times have I asked you not to come here?"

"But you're spending all your time here, you never come and play with me." Naseem pouted, frowning lightly and pointing at his face to emphasize his point. "Anyway," he kept going before she could tell him to go and get lost already, "not why I came here today. Guess what, guess what? The _High King of the Seven Seas_ is coming here!"

 _It was becoming utterly ridiculous_.

* * *

 _Author's notes:_ **Riiiiiiiight.**

First of all, sorry for the lateness. I could say that I got mountains of work but I'd be lying. I got lazy. I procrastinated. I worked on some other story (not really relevant but I'm seriously working on another project and I wish it'll be published someday, in french tho).

The chapter's short I know but I didn't feel like adding more to what was already here. Anyway, I probably won't be able to publish anything next month. I'm a senior in high school so, yeah, I got exams that start tomorrow. I wanna get my baccalauréat with merit so I'll work seriously. No more time for Lionheart. My exams finish on the 21st of June so I might be able to produce something by the 30th. MIGHT. Possible since I wrote this chapter mostly yesterday and today (I started it 3 weeks ago though) so if I feel like it, I'll try.

Anyway, about this chapter. I know, you guys wanted more details on the incident, right? Didn't feel like it. I need to focus on some specific points to get this story moving and I would've lost time if I had. So yeah, sorry but not sorry. I got what I wanted with Myron, she's supposed to be more Magi-like written from now on and totally engrossed in the Muu Alexius religion.

I feel like Scheherazade isn't present enough. The magi is so hard to portray tho, I fear her character won't be respected. I can't get the story moving if there isn't any Scheherazade's screen time though. Right, there aren't much details on how was the Fanalis Corps founded or how Razol and Yaqut (the only shown members) joined so I just made up something and quickly got over it.

Sinbad (the damn bastard) is coming. Another step in the story, riiiiiiiiight. Canon character are briefly introduced too (the useless princey for instance, sad asshole). I'll get back to Noor's inner thought process soon. Felt like focusing on Myron for the last chapters because the character has a real potential. Riiiight.

We're done, I think. Have a nice day and for those who've taken a literature course like me, good luck for your oral exams! Those who have exams period, wish you the best luck!

Break a leg!


	9. Any Day

.

 **Lionheart**

Chapter IX: Any day

* * *

 **Selflessness**

* * *

Scheherazade was a puzzling person. Her child-like appearance was absolutely deceiving and underneath her kind front was waiting a big, hungry and ready to devour any threat, shark. Or whatever predator. Scheherazade was kind, benevolent and fortunately, this dormant slyness of hers couldn't be used against her own people. Up to now, Scheherazade had shown her nothing but inexhaustible goodness notwithstanding the blatant untrustworthiness she had for her. She could understand at least that much, unlike Muu, she hadn't been chosen as Scheherazade's king candidate and none of them had ever mentioned this fact. Was she her king candidate? If she were to be, she wouldn't have any objection anyway, quite the opposite. _Or so she claimed_. Deep down within her, Noor knew she couldn't bring herself to fully trust Scheherazade because there was this air around her that screamed danger, because she was the most dangerous being the fanalis had ever met.

 _Can one really hand over their life to someone else without a second thought_? _Is that really possible_?

" _Your side is wide open!_ "

Little Noor jolted awake, struggling to understand what was happening around her. Disoriented, she barely noticed a blur of red escape her line of vision and dangerously close in on her. With a strangled sound, she gasped when something hit her side, hard enough to send her flying backward. Her back touched the ground first and she rolled on several meters, unable to focus. Without any strength, little Noor stayed still, sprawled on her back, staring at the sky confusedly. Trying to appease her uneven breathing, she briefly closed her eyes and when she opened them again, Razol was leaning toward her, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed.

"Ya okay there? Ya wasn't even kicked that hard, were ya?" When she remained unresponsive, Razol's frown deepened and she kneeled down next to her. "Sis'?"

Little Noor sat up, eyes unfocused. "Razol, would you indulge in self-denial? Is that wrong to treasure your individuality, your pride? I don't want to offer myself to someone else. My freedom is–"

"–what makes ya' fanalis, I know." Razol cut her off with a toothy smile. "Ya ain't Myron or Captain. Ya wasn't born in here. Instinctively, even if ya was raised here, ya don't want ta lose what links ya ta our kin. Even if I'd like ta say that I understand, yer situation is probably different from ours, right?" She paused, looking as if she was choosing her words carefully but shrugged, probably giving up on the tact she didn't even have in the first place. "Chill out. Ya got us right? Worrying doesn't suit ya, sis'."

Little Noor's lips twitched upward at Razol's words. As horrendous as her accent was and as much as she wanted to scream that despite her countless scolding, Razol was butchering her language again, Noor only sighed breathlessly. She knew all of that right, but hearing it from someone else was rather reassuring. Noor stood up slowly, ignoring Razol's attempts to help her. She dusted her training clothes tiredly and brushed the dirt off her hair, lips twitching with a strange urge to burst out laughing. Ignoring the way Razol whined next to her when she announced that she was done fighting, she turned toward the mansion and froze mid-step when she noticed the poorly hidden children who were spying on them. They were the newcomers. She hadn't had time to speak to any of them since they had arrived 3 days ago and she would rectify that immediately. Slowly, careful not to scare them, little Noor hushed Razol and approached them, careful not to soften her features too much when they stiffened upon seeing her approaching. She had no real experience with children but little Noor supposed that they were more easily put on the edge than adults. If she showed them too much kindness, they would deem her distrustful and take fright. She had to be firm but no too much lest she gave them the impression they were prisoners still.

"What are you two doing here? You two should be inside studying with Myron. Not that she's a good teacher in actual truth but she gets mad when we refuse to entrust your upbringing to her. Ah, don't tell her I said that."

The youngest one, a boy despite his girly face and probably not older than 10, giggled and Noor knew that they wouldn't consider as her a threat anymore. When she left the two of them 20 or so minutes later, Razol was giving them tips to stand their ground against physically taller and stronger opponents. Not that any of them would ever need to, as the eldest of them had vowed to protect the youngest from the outside world and its horror. The saddening fact was that even if she was only 19 and one of the youngest member of their makeshift family, she could be the eldest. None of them were acting as if she was younger, quite the opposite. _Children through and through_.

She found Muu in the family room, _all alone_ and reading _in peace_. Muu Alexius was almost never alone, always surrounded with gladiators when he fought in the Colosseum, lecherous females when he was patrolling around the city and his peers when he was within the Estate. He was an occupied man now that his position as the leader of the Fanalis Corps had been made official. It was a rare occurrence to find him unoccupied and so peaceful-looking. He looked so tranquil in fact that she felt guilty when he raised his head toward her and smiled warmly. It might be one of the reason he was Scheherazade's King candidate and she was not. The fondness they had for their beloved ones was blatantly obvious. For Scheherazade, the whole country was precious. For Muu Alexius, more than the Alexius family, the Fanalis Corps was what he held dearest.

"It's rare to see you here so early." She mumbled, not bothering to talk loudly since she knew he would hear her anyway.

"Lady Scheherazade told me to take it easy. When I told them, the others immediately took off. And it is rare not to see you busy as well."

There was something strange in the way Muu and she interacted. An uneasiness that wasn't here at the beginning but growing between the two of them until she wasn't even able to look him in the eyes anymore. It was subtle, strange but definitely bothering. Or maybe she was just overthinking, seeing that Muu didn't seem bothered the least bit by her fictional uneasiness. She adverted her eyes once more when she briefly caught his, instead focusing on a ridiculous mural decoration she had never noticed till now.

"I was training with Razol. Besides, I can allow myself a day-off. The King of Sindria is coming and this matter requires my attention more than anything else. I'd rather think about it in peace and quiet."

Muu tilted his head slightly and she pressed her lips tightly against each other to prevent herself from voicing something she would regret, even if she couldn't exactly pinpoint what was really bothering her in the first place, why there was this growing anxiousness that was threatening to make her lose her composure.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Muu asked calmly, tone slightly less friendly than before.

 _She wished there was. She wished she could–_

"Am I someone trustworthy?" She blurted out without being able to prevent herself, fisting her hand. "I wish I could…"

– _know. She wished she could have that missing knowledge_.

"…see it for myself. I may never be able to pledge allegiance to lady Scheherazade like you did Muu-san because I do _not_ know and that lack of knowledge is eating away at me."

She didn't even know _what_ she wanted to know in the first place, so much things that she didn't even know where to start. So many things about fanalis, their origin, the Dark continent, _Carthago_ , herself, her parents, her inability to control her magoi and to wield her Djinn despite the numerous trainings she had undergone to settle the problem. There were so many uncertainties that she was starting to doubt herself and her abilities to realize this or that task, things that she would have never doubted in the first place. Slowly, she was being crushed by the weight of all these doubts.

" _Noor_." She snapped out of her thoughts, staring at Muu who had lost all trace of friendliness and was gazing at her deadly serious. Silently, he pat the empty spot next to him on the couch and she sat down immediately, intimidated by his unusual demeanor. "I want you to hear something. You're the first one apart from Lo'lo I am going to tell that to so I need you to promise me that you'll keep it to yourself. I want to tell the others myself."

"Of course." She muttered, staring at him curiously.

She stiffened when he looked her in the eyes, feeling crushed by their intensity. "When I left to conquer _Barbatos_ several years ago, I spent a lot of time outside Reim after conquering the dungeon. It took me 5 whole years to be able to buy Lo'lo's freedom. On the first year however, I still hadn't met him. The truth is, I reached and crossed the Great Rift. Yunan told me not to but… curiosity and desperation were stronger."

 _Yunan?_

"I had heard you talk so much about this place on the other side of the Great Rift where Fanalis were living, you looked so thrilled at the idea of finding a home there… that I decided to go and look for it. Even if I felt like I was going to die doing it, I crossed the Great Rift. I don't know how much time I ran back then but I didn't have the strength to run anymore. I had just decided that if I was going to die, I would do it finding our brethren. At this moment, as I was going to die from exhaustion, my body changed. I turned into a beast, with skin made of steel, overflowing with magoi. It was an instinctive thought, for sure, but at that moment I realized that I felt more comfortable being that strange beast than a human. I didn't feel shackled, restrained anymore. It felt… _right_.

"I understood that it was my true form. What I saw back then, beyond the Great Rift, I will never forget. At that moment I remember that I thought that this side didn't matter anymore, that I was finally home. Then Yunan brought me back to _this side_. He told me that if I ever crossed the rift again, I'd have to be ready to say farewell to this side, that I was too young to do so. I thought about lady Scheherazade, Myron and you that I had left behind. I couldn't do it. I couldn't give up on you, it wasn't even fathomable. I found it, I found the place where fanalis reside but… they aren't humans on the other side. Besides, I didn't want you to give up on this life like I almost did. I've withhold this information from you selfishly, you who deserved to know it more than anyone else after everything you've been through, everything that you've given up for our country. _I am sorry_."

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. _It was_ … She had expected a lot of things from him but as they were children, Muu had never showed any interest in _Carthago_ and the Dark Continent like she had. Reim was the only thing he cherished and she thought that he didn't care about fanalis. _It was_ … She exhaled deeply, trying to ease the tension in her arms to no avail. To ease her doubts, to soothe her frayed nerves, to dispel her insecurities, he was giving her the choice to leave Reim after all these years. He was accepting the fact that she probably was out of place here in Reim, assuming duties that weren't made for her. He was giving her the choice to leave and live this life she had dreamt for, a long time ago. _He was_ –

"I understand." She breathed out, voice shockingly neutral as she stared at nothing in particular. "I really do love you, Muu-san."

Muu Alexius jerked up and whipped his head her way but she ignored him, smiling at nothing.

"I really am envious of Myron. I wish I could have such an elder brother too. I really am happy that you consider my feelings to such an extent. For me, Muu-san, you're family."

Care about the people one held the dearest by allowing oneself to get hurt for their sake, no matter what kind of pain one had to go through. _**That**_ _was self-denial_.

* * *

 **Miasma**

* * *

3 whole weeks went by before she mustered enough courage to actually properly talk to Scheherazade. The King of Sindria's arrival was due in a few days and the whole country was buzzing in preparation of Prince Nerva's upcoming birthday. As of now, balancing her life as she could considering the fact that she wasn't only a representative of the Magi anymore but an active member of the fanalis Corps as well–being a member of the Peyrus family didn't count, outcast as she was–was just more tiring than performing her actual duties. Babysitting a bunch of childish grown-ups was surprisingly more tiring that having to walk around with an air of utmost confidence and send monthly letters to influential countries. Talking about international affairs, little Noor was stumbling over a wall regarding Kou Empire. _That damn Emperor was a thick-headed fool who thought Reim was weak enough to yield under Kou's threat._

Kou was 100 years too young to outclass Reim. Granted they had a Magi and 3 dungeon conquerors but Reim, in addition to its developed technological field and superior manpower had now a _Fanalis Corps_. A dozen of monstrous human beings– _beasts_ that could wipe out a whole army of average soldiers. The only thing fanalis could fear was magic. Besides, Reim had now 3 dungeon conquerors as well, as several months ago, Ignatius Alexius had finally conquered his first dungeon. Even with sheer power, Kou couldn't dream to outmatch Reim. Reim was just in another league. Yet, despite this blatant difference, the damn Emperor just seemed to antagonize Reim no matter what. Scheherazade was showing leniency by ignoring his blatant attempts at setting a war by invading the countries Reim had built good relationships with and if it wasn't for her, the Emperor whose patience was running short would've just declare war against Kou a long time ago. As Magnostadt was developing itself quickly however, it was essential for Reim not to enter a conflict that would weaken the country should Magnostadt prove itself threatening.

During the 7 years that had gone by since Himalia's demise, little Noor hadn't set a foot in Kou. From her last encounter with the loathsome Emperor, the cheeky princes and the suspicious yet kind former Empress, little Noor only kept uncertain memories that weren't enough to ascertain whether they were decent people or not. _Well the former Empress had to be, she had been Himalia's friend after all_. The only person she remembered more or less clearly was the third prince, Ren Kouha, whose girly features and adoration for his brothers had reminded her Myron's faithful puppy demeanor. The fact that he had dragged her all around the town on a shopping spree had helped too. Kouha had been – _putting aside Gyokuen_ – the only person friendly enough to be deemed absolutely decent. Ren Hakuei didn't count, she had been mourning her father and her brothers and each time little Noor was looking at her, she felt like she was violating her privacy. After their first encounters, little Noor had avoided her like the plague. The fanalis had never met the actual Emperor's other daughters and she didn't feel like talking to Ren Hakuryuu, the late Emperor's youngest son, when he was glaring at her hatefully as if she had been the one at fault for his father's and brothers' deaths.

" _Is the tea not to your taste?_ "

Little Noor started, surprised eyes zeroing in on Scheherazade's half-concerned, half-curious expression. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and shook her head lightly, trying but failing to drown in her tea. Awkwardly, she evaded Scheherazade's eyes, pretending to be immersed in the assortment of cookies in front of her. After a long minute, little Noor schooled her features and faced Scheherazade again, whose expression had become apathetic once more. Still, there was a tinge of curiosity and expectancy lingering in her body language. _Was assuming a child-like appearance affecting her persona on the long-run_?

"Will you answer me 'yes' if I ask you whether you trust me or not?"

Little Noor would have relished the way Scheherazade almost lost her composure, eyes widening slightly and mouth opening partially, obviously taken aback by her question. At the moment however, eyes facing downward and dreading the answer that was coming, observing the Magi's reaction was the least of her concern. Muu had advised her to ask Scheherazade directly since in his eyes, there was no way Scheherazade would answer negatively. Muu's relationship with the Great Priestess was very different from theirs however and she couldn't bring herself to bow down before her without reluctance.

"I'd be lying if I say yes." The Magi answered quietly, voice much more quiet than Noor remembered. "I didn't _choose_ you. I know that you love Reim Noor and I wish to protect you as much as I wish to protect our country. But I can't say yes."

Noor felt like _crying_. Or _yelling_. Or _strangling_ Scheherazade. Or _banging_ her head against the nearest wall. _She only shrugged._

"I figured as much." _She felt like crying_. "Of course you wouldn't. My apologies for asking such an off topic question."

 _She really felt like crying_. Little Noor gave a little smile, trying not to show how much impact the Great Priestess's avowal of distrust had on her. _How much she wanted to throw up_. In truth, Noor couldn't understand why she was even reacting to Scheherazade's words when it had been obvious. Outwardly, they showed a relationship based on mutual trust but it was fake. _It was a lie_. She was but a mere tool, useful to Scheherazade but not good enough to be trusted. To be regarded. No matter how much she was burying the truth and trying to convince herself otherwise… _she didn't belong here_. She was an outsider that had been taken in. She was the odd one out– _as were her fellow fanalis_ –and would never be able to fit it. None of them would. It was stupid to think that she could be something else than a fanalis.

"Do you resent me?" Scheherazade asked evenly, absent-mindedly caressing the handle of her cup.

"I'm an outsider, lady Scheherazade. If I were you, I probably wouldn't trust me either."

Scheherazade's lips twitched, as if she wanted to say something but she visibly decided against it and stayed silent. The rest of their meeting was spent in silence, Noor focusing on her cup of tea to ignore Scheherazade's eyes on her. Twenty minutes later, cups empty, Noor got up and excused herself, thanking the Magi for granting her with a whole hour of her time. Scheherazade looked vaguely apologetic but Noor knew the Magi had answered to her enquiry with honest words. It wasn't the magician's fault if she had been foolish enough to believe that their interactions had been heartfelt. Quite the opposite, Noor wouldn't be surprised if Scheherazade resented her. Even if Alva and Himalia were the one at fault in the first place, she could've quit a long time ago. She could've stop being a burden.

Too worn-out, too defeated to actually care, little Noor moved on autopilot, greeting people she didn't even recognize, laughing at jokes she didn't remember understanding. In the midst of her confusion, only one thing remained clear: how she wasn't even wanted in the first place, how Scheherazade had never been able to accept her just because she wasn't a stupid _pawn_. She had told Scheherazade that she could understand her reasons but fear, anger and hatred were starting to course through her veins and she felt like destroying _shit_. Pure, raw and raging feelings were boiling under her skin even as days and weeks went by, even as she and Scheherazade resumed their false harmony. Her fellow fanalis were starting to worry seeing that she was slowly withdrawing from them. Muu was becoming the receiving end of her frustration as in a particularly irritating day, Noor realized that she wouldn't feel that way, she would've stayed oblivious if he hadn't talked her into this stupid discussion with the Magi.

The anger, the fear, the sadness and above-all, a rage of being used all these years for nothing were becoming overwhelming and Noor started avoiding even the sole place she could call home, too afraid of snapping at anyone to show her face. Each time Myron, Razol or anyone would decide to barge in the Peyrus Estate to kick her ass into the next week, she was already gone, drowning in her duties not to be consumed by her conflicted feelings. It was becoming too difficult however, after two months went by and little Noor confined herself in the Peyrus Estate. She had thrown a fit when a maid had spilled a cup of tea on Himalia's favorite book and destroyed a third of the library. After that, little Noor realized that she couldn't bear this situation anymore and decided to do the only right thing there was to be done. Something she should've done a long time ago. _She left_.

In the middle of the night, on a whim, without packing anything or letting anyone know. She was starting to feel claustrophobic, she was starting to feel _sick_ , here in Reim. So she opened her window, jumped out and _ran_. _Outside Remano_. She didn't even know where she was heading, she didn't care. She just wanted to run, to flee these people that meant the world to her. When she finally stopped, several hours later, the sun was already up and she had no idea where she was. _She still didn't care_. After that, little Noor walked. Still in the same direction, still at the same pace, with a mind still blank. When she came across her first city in _days_ , Noor realized that she had walked toward the eastern border. The air was salty–meaning the coast wasn't too far away–and it was slightly cooler here than in Remano. Eleven days later, after she finally decided to run the whole way toward the coast, taking needed breaks and drinking water when she could find it–fanalis were a lot more resistant than average people after all–she reached the sea. The city was buzzing with excitement– _all the coastal cities were_ – and she realized that people here had no idea who she was. Or rather, what she looked like.

Little Noor had left without any money, so she snuck into a merchantman and bargained with the captain when she got caught. During the whole duration of the trip– _really she had no idea where the ship was heading and she still didn't care_ –she realized all the tasks the merchants asked her to do and in exchange, they provided her food and a warm blanket. Noor slept on the deck at night, the nights weren't that cold for her and it helped to deal with the claustrophobia she discovered she had been developing. When they reached the shore, three whole month later, she didn't quite feel like the polite advisor anymore. Her clothes were disheveled and dirty and she didn't mind her manners anymore, going as far as disregarding cutlery during the meals, a thing that of all the people she knew, only Lo'lo did.

She realized where she had ended up two days later, as she was sneaking out of an Inn, food securely hidden in a small satchel. Little Noor had never been one to steal–she had never needed to–and her moral code just prevented her from doing so. Stealing was oddly exhilarating though. The adrenaline, the anticipation, there was just something enjoyable about it. As she was exiting the Inn, slipping into the shadows, she caught bits of a conversation that made her stop dead in her track.

"… _heard he's here_ _ **again**_ _, to see the king…_ "

"… _isn't it the fourth time this year? I wonder what he wants…_ "

"… _well, people say that he has a good relationship with King Rashid, that king of Sindria…_ "

 _Balbadd_. Not that it was really surprising. She did not know any other country as arid as this one. Besides, there was something in the air tickling her nose and everything smelt like sand and fire. The surprising thing was the foreign King presence who supposedly had met the New Emperor three months ago. Everyone was still making such a fuss of his arrival even before she left. The panic she first felt subsided as she realized that the king of Sindria had no idea who she was. He probably had heard about her–even that was doubtful–but there was no way he could know what she looked like when her _own_ people didn't know. _Hell_ , the king of Balbadd would hunt her down if he got wind of her presence in his country, considering that her presence here was the equivalent of Scheherazade's presence here. _Well, maybe not but something along those lines_.

Little Noor decided not to care about important people. She slept on the roofs at night, struggling still to sleep in a confined space and kept on stealing the food she ate–only the strict minimum of course–once robbing a tunic to a wealthy merchant who never realized the robbery until it was too late. She had already left Reim for five months and she was feeling neither any loss nor loneliness. She just felt _content_. _Free_. The only disagreeable feeling was the guilt that was slowly eating away at her mind. She tried to push it aside, to focus on the purposeless life she was living at the moment. Two days after she heard the king of Sindria's presence, she had already forgotten, too busy to laze around to just _care_. _It was that_. In her whole life, not once had Noor Peyrus–Peyrus wasn't even her name in the first place – had the occasion _not to care_. Now that she did, she finally felt _happy_.

* * *

 **Sanity**

* * *

" _Are you moping?_ "

Myron glared daggers at Yaqut–really if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under–who raised his hands as if defending himself, shrugging his shoulders. The air in here had become intolerable. Myron was constantly in a fool mood, Lo'lo was thrice more aggressive, Razol had stopped buzzing with excitement and Yaqut had seen Muu's flawless composure shatter in thousands pieces. Tension was hanging in heavy in the mansion and everyone was fast on the edge. Five months had went by since Noor's inexplicable disappearance and Reim had avoided near auto destruction. Surprisingly, Lo'lo had been the first one to feel the changes, hovering over the girl like an overly-worried mother. Yaqut wished he had been as insightful as the older fanalis. It had happened suddenly and none of them had understood _why_. She had been withdrawing from them, avoiding them and in the end, not coming back to the mansion. Even Myron–the most stubborn of them all–hadn't been able to _bring her back_. Hadn't even be able to _see_ her. Shortly before her departure, the only one who had been able to see her was Muu and he hadn't made any comment on her strange behavior, just asking them to let her time.

In the morning, Lo'lo had been the first– _the_ _sole_ –to understand that something was wrong. Even when nothing was out of place, even if nothing seemed wrong, he had took off fastest than Yaqut had ever seen, blazing pas the bewildered servants, the offended members of the Peyrus family and kicking her door open. The bedroom had been cold and as realization had dawned, Yaqut had felt the murderous aura coming from the older fanalis. _Lo'lo_ _had been pissed_. So pissed in fact, that Yaqut had feared that he would destroy the whole mansion and its inhabitants to find her. _Hell had broken loose_. He still remembered Myron storming in the room, looking as murderous as Lo'lo and for the first time, the both of them shouting at Muu. _They had looked ready to harm him_. Yaqut himself had felt his intestine boil with cold fury– _she was theirs, she belonged to them all, to the Fanalis Corps, she was one of them so why had she left_ **[1]** _?_ After a few minutes, after Yaqut had listened to Muu as he explained the reason of her behavior–after he had felt the cold rage threaten to take over as their leader _knew_ , knew the reason she had acted this way before her departure but hadn't told them–Yaqut had put a tight rein on his emotions because he knew he was going to do something he would regret.

Neither Myron nor Razol did. Yaqut had cursed as his partner lunged, ready to strangle their leader there and then, and had jumped behind her to restrain her, to prevent her from doing something she would regret–even if Yaqut wished she could land at least a blow, even if he wished he could do so himself. She had thrashed against him, screaming, crying, _begging_ but Yaqut had held her tightly, trying to calm her with soothing words. Yaqut had felt his heart shatter when her tiny friend had embraced him with all her might and cried her heart out. Lo'lo had seemed as uncomfortable as him, as he was trying to hold Myron tightly and push her away at the same time. In the midst of the emotional outburst, Muu had looked like he had committed regicide, shame obvious on his face as well as an emotion Yaqut hadn't been able to decipher. Everything had gone worst after that. As Muu had ordered them to go home because the others needed to know as well, Scheherazade –that woman who only smelt like danger and rot–had come as if she _knew_ and told every single one of them that she had been the reason why _their_ Noor was gone. Trying to fight his own urge to kill the woman, trying to restrain Razol and all of his fellow fanalis was not something Yaqut had been able to do. And obviously Muu had protected Scheherazade, the ever loyal _dog_. However, as much as Yaqut had wanted to strangle the magi, he respected his leader and had bowed down, as had the whole Corps.

Of course, they had tried to track her, to find her, to bring what was _theirs_ back. Noor's smell was distinctive, she smelt like old paper and ink, but they hadn't been able to track her down. And the Corps had changed. The initial distrust the fanalis had for Scheherazade had skyrocketed. All of them had made clear that they weren't serving Scheherazade, were willing and ready to defy _her_ orders. The only person who had earned their trust and loyalty so far was Muu. At first, Yaqut–and probably half the Corps–had lost all the faith he had for their leader. Then, he had followed Muu one day since the man was disappearing a lot the last days and found him sitting in Noor's bedroom, staying there for hours, whispering about how he was sorry and wished things could have been different as he knew all her doubts, as he knew Scheherazade would never be able to trust her. Even if he kept acting like their unwavering leader, Yaqut had discovered unheard of flaws in his captain. Noor had become a sensitive subject and Yaqut had seen Muu threaten a nobleman mocking the poor, slave girl the late-advisors had took in, unable to stand the pressure and running away.

Talking about advisors, the child named Naseem who seemed to be always hanging around Noor hadn't be seen _at all_ since Noor's departure. Yaqut had seen him thrice in the past five months and each time, the boy had looked extremely tired. He had to take care of both his and Noor's paperwork. Yaqut had heard from Muu that a lot of noblemen had suggested the king to fill in the empty spot already and that Scheherazade had firmly opposed. Strange, as the magi was the reason why _their_ Noor had left and was expecting her to come back. Then even as tension remained and everyone still felt this latent anger, this feeling of loss, five months had gone by. Yaqut was still addressing Noor sometimes, even if she wasn't there anymore, consulting her on certain subject and painfully realizing that she just wasn't _there_ anymore.

"I'm not moping," Myron snarled angrily, "I'm turning things over in my head. You should try sometimes, it's useful."

 _That was the pot calling the kettle back_.

"You're so obvious that it's almost painful to watch." Yaqut answered sluggishly, shrugging once more when she glared at him hotly. "Could you at least try to–"

"Yaqut." Razol cut him off with a warning in her tone. "Drop it."

Yaqut did as told, dropping the subject. Everyone seemed snappy lately, the fool mood in the mansion getting worse and even if nothing had occurred yet, he could feel in his partner's body language that she feared a fight would break out in the near future. Yaqut closed his eyes, too tired to argue with Myron when she was too edgy to think rationally–to try and think rationally at least because when had she ever been rational? Which one of them had been rational during the past months? She had been their sanity and right now, _the sanity was gone_.

* * *

 **Gaia[2]**

* * *

"It tastes disgusting." Little Noor commented offhandedly, pursing her lips to prevent herself from smiling when the strange man stumbled upon hearing her words.

She sighed breathlessly when he disappeared in another room, staring at the cup of tea in front of her. Her hands were still slightly red because of the coldness and the pain, but the plants he had been rubbing on her palms earlier on were starting to kick in as the pain was visibly subsiding. She squirmed when the silence went on, the claustrophobia she had been developing making her uneasy. To him, this little hut–there was no way in hell she'd call that _thing_ a house–may be cozy but to her, it was a real nightmare. The walls seemed even closer than when she had fist come in. Crushed by the feeling of loneliness that had obliterated her so-called freedom 2 months ago, she curled up on her chair, hugged herself and closed her eyes. As much as fanalis was meant for freedom, they also weren't meant for solitude. Even if their pack didn't consist of other fanalis, they _needed_ a pack otherwise, they were slowly losing their sanity and their humanity. Three months after her arrival in Balbadd, little Noor had realized that she had been more _beastly_ than ever. _She hadn't even felt human anymore_. So she had ran away, like she always did. She had lost herself to her inner beast and gave up on her humanity. It was her first time talking to an actual human in months.

" _It's alright_."

She jumped when the strange man's hand brushed past her shoulder but stayed still, aware that should the tight control she had over her muscles slip, she would be attacking him immediately. Gentle– gentler than everyone she had encountered in the past few months. Her body tensed up on its own as he stroked her arm mildly, not only touching her arm but her heart as well that was slowly opening itself to the humanity she had briefly forgotten. Strangely appeased by his touch, she shrugged him off, staring at him suspiciously. He only blinked, as if not understanding her reaction and gave her that goofy smile she had found him with.

"How reassuring to see you lively again." He breathed out, voice as gentle as she had imagined it to be. "You seemed quite lonely back then, I feared that you had lost something important."

"How would you know that? From what Muu-san told me, you are quite withdrawn _Yunan_."

"Is that what people say about me?" He seemed genuinely surprised and from what Noor had seen so far, she wondered why he would. "I am quite the social butterfly."

' _Utter bullshit!_ ' Little Noor wanted to scream. She only rolled her eyes, even as he gave her this disgustingly adorable kicked-puppy look.

"Why would you make such a face, Noor, when you have everything you have always dreamt for?" He suddenly asked, catching her off guard.

She should've realized from the get-go, Noor berated herself sullenly. _Of course he would know_. For all his kind smiles and mild attentions, Yunan was no different from Scheherazade. _He was a magi_. He used and discarded on a whim simply because _he could_. Not that she resented any of them for that, magis were the magicians of creation, who could build and destroy whole countries because they had the power to. They were loved by the rukh, the very essence of this world. They were beings who could summon miracles so that the flux of destiny could be maintained. Magi were the sole beings capable of changing the world. If they knew how this world work, they could use people in order to make it move. _Like Scheherazade did, in order to protect Reim_. _Like Yunan did, in order to protect what was beyond the Great Rift_.

"Or is it what you convinced yourself to believe? Is it what you wanted? Or what someone else wanted for _you_? What is it that _you_ want?"

 _A place she could call home. People who could be family. The simplicity of an easy life among her brethren_. As self-centered as it could seem, Noor had often wondered why she was the only one feeling bitter and unsatisfied with how life had treated her so far. Muu had Scheherazade, his sister and the Fanalis Corps. Myron had Muu. Lo'lo had Muu. Razol and Yaqut had each other. The rest of the Corps had Muu. Unlike them, her life didn't revolve around Muu. The ambitions she had had so far weren't even hers in the first place but she owned her benefactors so much that she had lived according to their beliefs, burying her own feelings. For how long had she been in denial, convincing herself that protecting Reim was enough? Not being honest with herself had driven her into a corner and here was she, hiding from her own country and the people she loved just because she couldn't take it. Just because she couldn't live that fake life anymore. _How pathetic_.

"Have you ever thought about _living_ , Noor? Because to me, you might as well be _dead_."

The worst, was that Yunan's words were true. Children didn't need to worry about those kinds of things, they should just grow up learning about the true value of life. She hadn't had this chance however. The woman who had taken care of her as a child–she couldn't even remember her name anymore–had died when she was only seven and she had spent a whole 7 months imprisoned in the basement of the company. Afterwards, she had been too busy following her two benefactors around to care about her _own_ life. After their passing, the true nightmare had started. She had forgotten that she even owned a life of her own and cast aside her own feelings to fulfill their unachieved dreams. During her 19 years of life, Noor had never had the chance to question herself over _her_ life. She had lived for Alva and Himalia, for Reim, for Scheherazade, for the Fanalis Corps but never for herself. An individual who didn't have a life on their own might as well be dead.

"I don't–" Her lower lip twitched and her hands started to shake on her knees. Uneasy, she wiped her clammy on her tunic, adverting her eyes from the magi's penetrating gaze. "Sometimes, I feel like life doesn't want me to move forward. I'm stuck and I can't move, no matter what I do." She confessed finally, playing with the fabric of her tunic. "Everyone else is moving forward but I can't move. I feel like my destiny is to stay _behind_."

Yunan's eyes softened. Slowly, as if not to scare her, he cupped her cheek, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"Do you hate your fate for that? Do you resent it? Do you feel the need to curse it because it has refused you everything you had the right to own?"

 _Was she resenting Fate for everything that had happened to her_?

"I couldn't change my fate even if I killed its mother to threaten it." She finally answered, shrugging her shoulders. "If I have a problem with it, we just have a little talk with my fist."

"You really are a fanalis, aren't you?" Yunan laughed softly, visibly satisfied with the answer she had provided him.

He released her and sat properly in his chair again, something indecipherable in his expression as he stared at her. For all his eccentric demeanor and childish antics, Yunan was a decent person in her book. He was kind of course, but insightful and there was just something about him that put her at ease. His tea was also effective albeit disgusting, as all the injuries she had arrived with weren't hurting anymore. Hell, in this ridiculous hut of his, she wasn't even feeling claustrophobic anymore. Yunan was so different from Scheherazade that it was almost painful to watch. Scheherazade's eyes–when open–were gentle yet calculating and she was controlling her every moves as well as monitoring everyone's moves around her. Yunan just didn't seem to care. He did whatever he wanted, wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, however he wanted and whoever he wanted to do that with. He wasn't bound by neither a country nor obligations. He incarnated the freedom she had always sought.

Yet, despite the strange affection she felt for the magi, she still wished that she could be at Scheherazade's side. During her childhood, Yunan hadn't been here. _Scheherazade had_. As strange as it could be, she was the closest thing Noor had from a mother. She had always looked after her even from afar. As idiotic and nonsensical it could be considering their relationship, Noor _loved_ Scheherazade. Even now, she was still thinking of a way to obtain the magi's approval. _Her respect_. She just wanted to be important for Scheherazade as was Scheherazade for her. She was selfishly demanding attention from such a powerful being and shamelessly so.

"Let's get you home, Noor. Where people are waiting for you. Where the home and the family you wished for _are_."

" _Sure_."

Yunan stood up, told her to wait for a minute, disappeared in an adjacent room and reappeared thirty seconds later, with a fishing rod and a green magician hat on his head. All traces of seriousness around him had disappeared and he was giving her this ridiculously goofy smile of his. She pushed her unfinished tea aside when he gesture toward himself and approached him slowly, wary of the magic that was slowly hanging in heavy in the room. She waited for a good ten seconds before giving him her hand, tensing up when he extended his magic on her. It wasn't painful but definitely uncomfortable and something about her and magic just didn't sit right. It probably was because of the resistance to magic all fanalis had. Before she could ask how he was planning on transporting them, little Noor latched on to the magi as the space seemed to warp around her. The air suddenly became stifling and she lost all strength in her legs, clinging to the magi to stay up. For three terrifying seconds, everything around her became black and the ground under her seemed to vanish into thin air. Then, her feet touched the ground once more and the sickening feeling of magic subsided.

A bit disoriented, she glanced at Yunan who looked like he could die under her grip. Magis for all the super magic they could produce were so physically weak that it was laughable. She was holding Yunan that strongly and yet, it seemed like she could kill him if she leaned on him. Merciful, she released the poor magician who staggered for a few seconds before standing upright again, as disheveled as her. Reassured by the magi's state, she pulled away, trying to identify the place they had ended up in. Little Noor was positively sure that she did not know this place and yet, there was something oddly familiar about it. The smell in the air was unidentifiable but familiar as well, as if it belonged to a person she knew. Absurd fact however, for Noor was sure that she could recognize anyone's scent. Well, from people she knew. Yunan fidgeted next to her and little Noor turned to stare at him questioningly.

"It's good to see you again." The Guardian of the Great Rift said softly and Noor tensed up, her senses not picking up on any presence.

" _Yunan_."

Little Noor whirled around, heart throbbing violently. Her eyes widened and she felt her throat go dry. _There_. It had been a whole year and yet, she was still exactly the same. Closed-off, distant and yet surprisingly gentle expression. Childish face, tiny body but dangerous aura. Closed eyes, chin high and spotless clothes. The stark contrast between her deceivingly infantile outward and a strength that enabled her to crush the whole country. Reim's Empire pillar, active for the past 200 years despite her deteriorating health.

"It has been a long time, Yunan, Noor."

 _Scheherazade_.

* * *

 _Author's notes_ : Hello people!

No I did not die of an unknown and mysterious disease, yes I am still alive. I got my baccalauréat with merit y'know? I screamed, screamed, screamed a bit more and that was it. I decided to take it easy, laze about and enjoy my holidays. Well, here I am now. Well, let's go back to business.

 **[1]** Weird fanalis thingy y'know. Not willing to share. Family's family. Selfish beasts. Get the gist?

 **[2]** Don't even know how I could explain that in english. Gaia's both mother and earth y'know? Lil' Noor has no momma and I think as almost animals, fanalis have a privileged relationship with Earth. Y'know, nature and everything? So she now lost without any guide and never had any mom and doesn't feel so much in synch with nature anymore. Do I make sense? I think I do.

This chapter's theme was the importance of trust. Because of the distrusfulness born between Scheherazade and lil' Noor, bonds broke. Even the closest people can hurt you even if you've given them everything. Lil' Noor here has trusted everyone without being careful, not that we could blame her. But she gave her trust when there was no base to this trust since she has no real purpose. Everything she's been doing till now is useless because even if she's poured her whole heart into it, she never really intended to do that for herself in the first place.

So, baseless trust as well as the importance of bonds even fresh with the fanalis's reactions. Constrast between trusting blindly and trusting so much that one comes to depend on someone else. Right. Right, right, righty. Felt inspired for this one, needed time for it to come out how I wanted it to. Dunno if I'll be there by the 15th of January, y'know that's the start of school year and I'll be a college student damnit!

See ya all fellas next time!


	10. Human Beings

**GUEST -** Hiya ! Thanks for the compliments, they're really heartwarming. I've read the previous chapters and realized that you were right. I was freaking out but the pace isn't that fast, really. Thanks for making me notice! Ugh, I dunno if my English can be considered as beautiful right now, but I'm feeling the changes, definitely. I've less troubles than at the beginning and the style is slightly more refined. I don't really care about reviews, y'know? Don't get me wrong, what author doesn't like reviews? I just mean that I'll keep on writing regardless. It's a really interesting experience and I want it to last as long as it can. I know that tardiness can unsettle people too but there's that much that I can do as a non-native writer. I got to triple-check everything all the time and frankly speaking, I just skip the overall proofreading most of the time. I'm really flattered to be in your browsers, y'know? Keep on following Lionheart please!

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter X: _Human beings_

* * *

 **Spine**

* * *

Little Noor squirmed under the scrutiny of the numerous eyes on her. Barely half a step in front of her, squeezing her hand gently like she'd do with an obedient child, Scheherazade was taking in all the hostility without batting an eyelash. An obedient child, exactly what the half-breed had been reduced to during the past three hours. She had no idea what Yunan and Scheherazade had discussed about as they had asked for privacy. Half an hour later, little Noor had barged in the room as Yunan's peculiar and relaxing odor had faded. The guardian of the Great Rift had been gone, only a slight residue of his magic lingering. Inexplicably, Noor had felt something akin to loss. She had not known Yunan for long, didn't know a thing about him and yet, there was something about the magi that just put her at ease. _She liked the magi_. The affection she had for him wasn't so different from the one she held for Scheherazade as despite his male condition, both of them gave a motherly impression. _Yes, motherly_. That was why she felt at ease around Yunan, even more so than around Scheherazade, because the motherly vibes he gave were stronger than hers. Well, the androgynous male could almost pass for a female after all.

Yunan's disappearance had been unsettling as for the first time in almost a year, little Noor had been face-to-face with the woman who had been at fault in the first place. Well, _both of them had been_. She had been fidgety, avoiding the magi's unwavering gaze. She had felt confident as long as Yunan was around but as soon as he had been gone, all the desire to confront Scheherazade had died out at the same time as her confidence. Only a helpless and wordless Noor had remained, staring dumbly at the magi. During the remaining two hours, little Noor had cried her eyes out–kneeling beside Scheherazade who was gently stroking her hair–rambling about how Scheherazade had always made her feel like an undesired disease, about how the lack of begetters was weighing upon her, about how unlike Myron and Muu who knew from whom their "human" side came from, everything around her was just an ocean of unanswered questions. After her weeping had finally ceased–too worn out to even feel embarrassed–little Noor had finally relaxed in Scheherazade's protective touch and accepted the fact that no matter how much she despised her situation, Reim was her place to return and the Fanalis Corps her so-desired home. Hell, Scheherazade was the woman she _had_ to look up to in order to function properly.

( _During her whole life, little Noor had always had to follow in someone's footsteps. Mircela, Himalia and now Scheherazade._ )

Then the magi had took her hand, as gently as she could–little Noor had almost scoffed at that because she had had a breakdown for sure but she still was able to destroy a whole building with a single punch–and lead her in the city, stopping at each spot little Noor used to visit. The shopkeepers seemed both baffled to see the magi walk around in the city and overjoyed to see her back. It seemed that both Muu and Naseem had created a rumor saying that due to a sever health condition, she was unable to leave the Peyrus Estate lest she infected everyone. It seemed absolutely absurd considering the fact that due to the position she held, noblemen were bound to ask questions. The news of her disappearance should have spread like wildfire. _What in the hell had been happening when she was gone?_ After that embarrassing tour within her own country, Scheherazade had dragged her toward a familiar mansion where she had lived for a whole year before running off. It felt almost surreal.

A hundred meters remained between them and the mansion yet, little Noor could already pick up the distinctive smell of her fellow fanalis. Something bestial, dangerous and yet absolutely comforting. Hand still firmly held by Scheherazade, little Noor had started when her ears had picked up movements. To be more precise, footsteps rushing toward them. Unsurprisingly, Lo'lo had appeared first, eyes wild, lips curled, muscles bent; visibly ready to pounce forward at any given moment. He was looking at her straight in the eyes, face closed-off but a hint of bitterness in his expression. If she had been in Lo'lo's stead, if he had given up on her like she had done when he was the only one she could wholeheartedly trust–not that she didn't trust her fellow fanalis but certain things better remained unsaid–she would've resented him too. Instead of talking to him like she had always done, little Noor had shunt him aside without trusting him. Everyone had followed, every single one of them, staring at her blankly. In the midst of them, Myron's expression–carefully blanked–had hurt the most as only she knew, only she understood how lonely and indecisive little Noor had been as a child. Myron had been the one at her side the longest.

 _Yunan_. Little Noor inwardly called, despair tainting her tone.

"As I had requested her to," little Noor jumped when Scheherazade squeezed her hand ever so slightly, "Noor came back after accomplishing her mission. It required her the absolute discretion and so, she left without informing any of you."

 _What in Solomon's name was she talking about?_

"As that mission remains confidential however, I'll ask you not to question her on what she had been up to for the past year. It would compromise the point of said-mission, wouldn't it Noor?"

 _Lie_. She could hear it in her voice and see it in the way the magi was looking at her, Scheherazade was trying to protect her of the possible wrath of her fellow fanalis. She was trying to redeem herself in the only way she knew possible as the Fanalis Corps was the only thing she cherished more than her own life. _Not Reim. Not even Alva and Himalia whom she had loved dearly_. Fanalis were selfish creatures after all, who cherished their life more than anything else. The only thing they could held dearest more than themselves were their pack. For Noor, the Fanalis Corps was her pack. Muu was the alpha, Lo'lo the beta and even if there was no real hierarchy between the remainder of them, even if they bickered and brawled all the time, they were family. Never before had had little Noor a family. She had had a guardian and mentors, but never a family.

 _The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life._

" _Leave_." Scheherazade blinked and little Noor pursed her lips when she realized that she had said those words aloud. Even so… "This has nothing to do with you. Please," _please_ "leave."

 _Family is one's strength and one's weakness_.

There was a bit of silence as little Noor refused to look at Scheherazade even as the magi stared at her lengthily. Then, the child-like woman nodded slowly, released her hand and stepped backward. At this moment however, little Noor was refusing to acknowledge the guilt churning in her stomach. She had made her decision alone, she had chosen to accept all the anger thrown at her because she deserved it all. In the end, no one but herself had been at fault. Scheherazade had never been dishonest, never hinted that she had an ounce of trust in her. Little Noor had gotten worked up alone, put words in people's mouths alone and got tangled up in this mess alone. So she ignored Scheherazade when the woman turned on her heels to give them privacy, ignored the reproachful eyes weighing heavily on her, took a step forward and bowed lowly, her hands clenching the fabric of her clothes till the knuckles turned white.

" _I'm sorry_." She took a deep breath, bit her lower lip but kept going on anyway, "I'm sorry because I am not sorry. I do not– will never regret leaving like I did and what I lived outside here, without _you_ , without being anything else than a fanalis. It was the best thing I could ever experience. _So I do not apologize_."

It felt relieving to confess that despite the guilt, she did not regret her choices. _She had needed to leave_. Now that she was back, she felt stronger, blooming and calmer. Living like she should've had the occasion to at some point had been refreshing. Little Noor had never been given the occasion to live a life she had chosen herself. Now that she had embraced this life, she finally understood that yes, yes she was meant for it but there was so much more. Living that life didn't matter in the end if she was the only one who enjoyed it. She had bounded herself to people without even realizing and her life wouldn't have much sense anymore if she weren't to live it with them. She had never realized how much she _hated_ Reim. She had never realized how much she detested _its inhabitants_. She had never realized that she wasn't feeling bound to the country out of the promise she had made to her mentors a long time ago anymore, but out of the love she felt for the Fanalis Corps. If she or Muu were to disappear at some point, they wouldn't be welcomed anymore. She had never realized that the only reason she had come back was in order to make sure that they wouldn't feel chained to this country like she had a long time ago. She had never realized that the only reason of her presence here was _the Fanalis Corps_.

Little Noor started when two firm hands grabbed her shoulders. She raised her head to glare at the offender, only to cringe when she met narrowed eyes. _Myron was still shorter_ , was the first thing she thought. The sheer idiocrasy of the statement almost made her burst out in hysterical laughter. Little Noor knew that she was by no mean short, she towered over the younger girl by at least a head. Now, it seemed almost ridiculous how much even shorter Myron looked. Noor flinched when Myron scowled, eyes darting between her face and her body as if to assess her. Then, the youngest Alexius snorted in that ridiculously brattish way of her and out of reflex, little Noor scoffed and rolled her eyes to humor her. _Old, hard habits_. _**Fanalis were such children sometimes**_. She jumped when Myron suddenly embraced her with all her might, burying her head in her chest to muffle a relieved sigh.

 _Family is my Guide to reality_.

When she raised her head toward the rest of them–stroking Myron's hair to get her to stop shaking because reality was that she was 3 years older than Myron–she felt her heart stop. There was no resentment, no bitterness, no hatred. _Only relief_. Despite her claims, despite promising herself that she would not, never regret making the choice she had made, little Noor felt her eyes start to water.

 _Family is not an important thing. It's everything_.

To think that after all the tears she had shed till now, little Noor still had room for another crying fit. That night, as the children cried all night–because shit, seeing a dozen of grown-ups bawling their eyes out was highly depressing–as the oldest snickered and teased them for becoming crybabies, as Yaqut of all people started to tear up seeing the emotional outburst all around him–despite everything, little Noor found time to laugh at him because _that_ was really too good–little Noor finally understood where she belonged. _The Fanalis Corps was hers_. That's how fanalis were in the end. They deemed things theirs, once they staked a claim, it couldn't be anything else but _theirs_. _Selfish, egotistical and yet so endearing_. The Fanalis Corps had staked a claim on her as much as she had staked one on it, little Noor realized as she absent-mindedly fondled one of their youngest member's hair. Poor child was passed out on the floor, too worn-out from the intensive crying-make up session they just had.

Little Noor had never realized how much she impacted on them. To her, as long as Muu was here, then everything would be fine for them. Guess she had to realize that she was much, much more wanted than she was willing to accept. Now she understood, _though_. Now she could accept it. She wasn't alone anymore. She didn't have to try and carry her burden herself. _She was strong_. Little Noor knew she was strong. Yet, _twenty strong individuals were even stronger_. Her metal vessel rumbled soothingly against her cheek and little Noor closed her eyes. Next to her, Lo'lo elbowed her in the ribs hard enough to make a bruise, his Glasgow smile adding to his already fierce appearance. _But even so…_ little Noor fearlessly elbowed back, lips curling in a small smirk as she tilted her head. The ' _I'm home_ ' she had wanted to pronounce at first already forgotten.

"So, how your _Household Vessel_?"

Lo'lo scoffed and rolled his eyes; little Noor snickered. _Home indeed_.

* * *

 **Interlude: Muu Alexius's love life (1)**

* * *

"When I said that I loved you, I meant it in a strictly platonic way, Muu-san." Little Noor commented absent-mindedly from where she sat on Muu's bed.

The older fanalis didn't even twitch. Noor had never entered Muu's bedroom, she had never felt the need to and now she wondered how come she had never crashed this room before. It was comfortable, even more so than Myron's bedroom where she constantly invited herself. Maybe it was because of Muu's presence. Or maybe it was due to the fact that he looked like some washed-up sperm whale instead of some mighty war leader. The important fact was that she had never dared to bother him in his room before out of respect for his privacy and now that she had, she had a feeling that she'd keep doing that. The ' _proper men and women shouldn't find themselves alone in the same bedroom if not engaged in a union of some sort_ '' rule didn't really applied to them since they had never bothered to consider each other as man and woman before. _Vague siblings at best_.

Muu turned his head her way–even for him it was probably unthinkable to wake up at 4.a.m in the morning to chat with any of them–and opened an eye groggily, the other hidden by his long hair. Long hair that he should try and brush properly if he didn't want it to become a problem, internally mused little Noor. She couldn't blame him for barely being conscious despite all her babbling. Her sleeping pattern was starting to get proper again but she'd still need a few nights to be able to get rid of that infuriating sleep-disorder. She had already been kicked out of most bedrooms–Lo'lo's first, unsurprisingly–and had found no other company than Muu who managed to sleep through her disruption. Even Muu Alexius had a limit however, for he was staring at her tiredly, eyes fluttering shut then snapping open suddenly.

"Talking about love… Isn't it time for you to find a suitable woman to marry, Muu-san?"

Muu's eyes snapped shut and Noor was sure that if he was trying to fight off sleep just so that she wouldn't feel lonely, he had abandoned her to her problem the instant she had uttered the word ' _marry_ '. Stubborn Fanalis Corps leader. There were dozens of women ready to flock to him but he was too busy worrying about the lot of them to do anything with his personal life. Not that she was much better but at least, she was barely twenty, still young and fresh. Muu Alexius was by no means old, really, but it was still kinda pathetic not having dated a single woman in 27 years of life when even Lo'lo had spent the night with a woman before. In what circumstances she did not want to know but it had happened. Sometimes, little Noor thought that for a man, their leader was kind of pathetic. The worst was that no one outside the Fanalis Corps knew that and women were gushing about the gorgeous General and the dozens of imaginary relationships he had had.

Silently, Noor laid down on the other side of the bed, turning her back to Muu. She still couldn't see the _man_ daughters of noblemen were giggling about but she saw the _General_ soldiers bowed down to. Muu was probably the strongest individual she had ever met–Scheherazade and Yunan didn't count, they were strong in a different way–despite being only half-blood. Physically speaking, half of the Corps bested him. Yet there was something about him that just drew people in. She didn't know how to explain that feeling but Muu made her want to walk right behind him. Little Noor knew she had never _loved_ anyone as much as she _loved_ him and not even in a romantic way. He made her feel strong. Once more, little Noor wished that they could share the same blood. _Even if they didn't in the end…_ she still loved him.

She woke up with a start. She hadn't even realized that she had ended up falling asleep. She rubbed her eyes to make the drowsiness disappear and glanced at the man who had been occupying her thoughts during the past hours. Muu was laying on his back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The sun hadn't risen yet meaning the rest of the mansion wouldn't wake up before at least a whole hour. For all the times she had spent stealthily leaving the mansion to get her work done in the morning before, she knew that Muu always woke up before everyone else to tend to unfinished business. Or more like unsettled problems caused by their bunch of uncontrollable children.

Sitting up, little Noor peered at his face curiously, trying to get a reading on his thoughts. Most of the things he thought about nowadays were ' _how should I apologize to that person_ ' or ' _shit so-and-so did that and I didn't clean up after them_ ', sometimes ' _I should do_ _ **that**_ _in order to please Scheherazade_ ' and most of the time _'That's it, they overdid it. Lo'lo and Myron are dead_ ''. She agreed wholeheartedly with him, there was nothing more time-consuming than the Fanalis Corps. Still, it was rare to see him have a moment for himself. Now that he wasn't sustaining murderous thoughts, she wondered what was going on through that head of his.

"What is it, Noor?" He asked, briefly glancing her way.

"Just wondering what you're thinking. Usually, it's pretty obvious." She got on all four and got closer until she was sitting right next to him, her leg touching his. "Are you worried about something?"

Absent-mindedly, the Alexius played with one of her long lock. There was no answer to her question but little Noor didn't mind. There were rare moments during which he was looking absolutely peaceful and this was one of them. She liked to think that her presence helped him to relax.

"I'm glad that you're home." He whispered when the silence stretched. He closed his eyes and made himself comfortable on her knees, turning his head so that he was facing her belly. "I was worried."

"There was no need to worry, I'm strong." She hummed as her hand diligently untangled the knots in his hair. "I know where you're coming from but you should have more faith in me, Muu-san."

She blinked when her eyes caught his. There was a strange fire burning inside, a raging inferno, fierce and protective. After a good 5 seconds, Muu broke eye-contact and closed his eyes again. Little Noor could still feel the fire burn her skin as if it had been real. It took her a whole minute to pull herself together and start acting normally again, resuming her task of untangling the mess that was Muu's hair. She did not know what Muu had meant with his stare but she felt strangely safe. _Protected_. It was enough.

"You're a woman." Muu said simply, as if it explained everything when it explained absolutely nothing.

 _Ah, so he did see her as a woman_.

* * *

 **Interlude: Muu Alexius's love life (2)**

* * *

"Is that okay to take a day-off without letting anyone know?"

"I asked Lo'lo to look after everyone in my stead."

Little Noor knew that what was done was done and that she shouldn't voice out her doubts, considering the worried glances Muu threw toward the mansion everyone half a minute. Even so, she stared at him, disdain written all over her face, silently judging his actions. More than a reproach, her silent judgment would get her point across more easily. No doubt that Muu was regretting his choice already but even so, it felt good to be able to make him fidget that fashion again.

"Where are we going anyway?" She asked him suddenly, brushing the subject aside; he seemed repentant enough already.

"I didn't know you _that_ impatient." Muu teased and she scowled. _That was low_.

Even so, interacting with Muu was relaxing, refreshing. As of late, his simple presence had been enough to calm her down. According to Razol, there had been slight changes within their leader, changes that she couldn't perceive but she could tell that they were here. Now that she was spending more time with him, little Noor could tell. _He was warmer_. Muu had always been a nice person, gentle and caring. This gentle side of her was even more prominent when he was with his fellow fanalis. Noor couldn't explain the changes but Razol had been right, there was something… _more_. A façade of his that they knew and yet, discovered every days. Considering their tight-knit relationship within the mansion, all of them knew each other perfectly. Still, there were times when in Muu's case, there seemed to be always something to discover. A façade underneath a façade.

"Are you in love with lady Scheherazade, Muu-san?" She asked lowly, staring right in front of her. She did not know what had prompted that question but now that she had asked it, she was pretty curious about it.

To his credit, Muu didn't even blink. No falter in his footsteps, no tensing in his shoulder, no tightening in his jawline. Unfazed, he tilted his head ever so slightly to confirm her claims. Little Noor blinked and then grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"I knew that you interested in older women was a possibility but to think you would go for _such_ an old woman… Way to go Muu-san, I don't even know if I should be impressed or disgusted."

Well, Scheherazade was _over_ two hundred after all. Muu rolled his eyes, gave her _that_ stern-but-not-firm-enough-and-still-gentle gaze and little Noor backed down, brushing the subject aside and internally promising not to talk about it anymore ever again. At least, he was interested in a woman… _**No good**_. As much as she respected Scheherazade, the woman was no good for Muu. She was way too old and even if Noor trusted her with Reim, she would never trust her with Muu. Scheherazade was clever, she had probably already caught on Muu's feelings–a thing that the older fanalis probably already knew. There was no solid reason to her internal refusal but little Noor just knew that Scheherazade was no good. He deserved _better_. _More honest_. _Gentler_. In this country in which he only mixed himself with violent women, he deserved someone that wouldn't break his nose in a fit of rage.

"Brutes are no good…" She mumbled, low enough not to be heard.

"Ah, here we are."

Little Noor blinked as her eyes set on the familiar architecture of the colosseum. She glanced at Muu who looked perfectly satisfied with himself then stared at the horde of civilians pressing themselves in front of the entries to get the best seats.

"I've signed you up for a round." There it was again, this undertone of self-satisfaction.

Thrilled despite herself, the female fanalis took a deep breath as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

 _Brutes indeed_.

* * *

 **Interlude: Missing pages**

* * *

" _Don't you guys have a name?"_

 _The four loci stared at Ignorance who blinked innocently. He had never thought about it before but he only called them by their titles. Essences. Raison d'être. Whatever. They had been accompanying him for months now and apart from getting them into trouble, he had never bothered to interact with them more than necessary. Despite his name, Ignorance wasn't so anymore. Sure, he liked to fool around and act clueless most of the time but he now knew how to discern things. Ignorance didn't deserve to be called so anymore but he'd keep on carrying this name a while longer. Until the thought of his lost comrades didn't make him want to die as well anymore._

" _Have not." Suffering chirped, shrugging her definitively feminine shoulders. "Don't need one. You don't have a name as well so it's not–"_

" _I've got one." Ignorance cut her off, tilting his head to the right. "Of course I have. Under that title of mine, I still am a living being. Why shouldn't I own one? Names are meaningful, even more so than titles. It defines who I am. Ignorance doesn't define what I am inside. My name does."_

 _Suffering gawked at him and Ignorance grinned cheekily._

" _Well, things that are not dumb can actually come out of your mouth, that's surprising." Fear deadpanned with that aloofness that characterized him. Still a child and yet so bitter._

 _Ignorance pouted as Suffering snickered. Love was trying–and failing–to muffle their giggle behind their hand and Age, that traitor, was staring at him with this_ knowing _smile. Ignorance huffed and crossed his arms on his chest, burying his head in his arms. Well, despite all the maturity he had acquired, Ignorance was still a child through and through, despite the hundreds of years he had already lived. Hundreds of years among his kin, not worrying about anything as his siblings were around him. He missed them. He missed them greatly. He knew that Wisdom and Valor were somewhere in this world, maybe living on or maybe dead and it killed him not knowing what his brothers were up to. Ignorance wished he could see them again. He wished he could have died with the others. If he had, he wouldn't be here feeling infinitely lonely._

" _Give us one." Fear mumbled reached him even through the downward turn that had taken his thoughts. "If a name is so meaningful, then give us one. You're some omnipotent being or something, right? Give us a name, a purpose, a meaning."_

 _Dumbstruck; Ignorance raised his head and stared at the youngest of their makeshift group, who flushed and turned his head sideway. On Fear's each side, Suffering and Love where staring at the young boy, as awestruck as Ignorance. Only Age chuckled softly, certainly catching something that all of them couldn't and made a gesture to encourage Fear's idea. Love blinked for a few more seconds and then gave him a gently smile to encourage him as well. It took a bit longer for Suffering but eventually, she accepted the idea as well as she tilted her head toward Ignorance to give him her consent._

" _Go ahead. Give us a name, a raison d'être. You aren't alone anymore, Ignorance."_

 _ **Not alone anymore**_ _. Ignorance swallowed the lump in his throat, stared at the four individuals in front of him._

 _A name._

 _Instead of giving them a name, he revealed them his._

" _My name is…"_

* * *

 **Phantom Pain**

* * *

Two months went by before little Noor realized what was making her all fidgety. She was forcefully restraining herself. She was ignoring it but she knew her fellow fanalis were glancing at her when they thought she couldn't see them and sharing worried expressions. They feared that she would leave again and honestly, little Noor couldn't hold it against them. She had promised herself not to give in to her selfish desires anymore however and even if the prospect of another journey sounded appealing, she had made the fanalis Corps her priority. Never again did she want to see the utter despair on Myron's face as she was hugging the life out of her. The guilt had not appeased even after two months and even if she had said that she never would, she was starting to regret ever leaving. The fanalis Corps was pack and one didn't abandon pack without regretting it.

Strangely however, the possibility of another voyage wasn't the reason of her restlessness. Out of all the bizarre things she could have missed, the magi she had barely spent a few days with was the one she was missing. She couldn't explain the feeling, but the motherly attentions Yunan had drowned her in had sparked a reaction within her. She was longing his touch, his voice, his smile. Yunan had provided her a warmth unknown till then. Since Yunan's departure, her heart felt strangely… _hollow_. Something was missing there, something the magi had been able to see and fill. Gradually, it had started to empty, just like a pitcher, until it became _hollow_. _Unfilled. Empty_.

"You're making that face again." Myron hissed under her breath, face sullen. "Get a grip, that bastard's coming this way."

 _What–_

"Why, hello lady Noor. It has been some time since our last encounter, sadly. I see that your short stay away from Remano did nothing to hinder that smooth skin of yours. You look lovely tonight, as you usually do."

Little Noor had to clamp her mouth shut to prevent a defeated sigh from escaping her lips. _Nerva Julius Caluades_. The emperor's only son and imperial Prince. With that cocky grin of his. He held his head so high that she still wondered how he managed to look her in the eyes. They had only interacted thrice so far and the prince had shown nothing but flawless manners. Even his overwhelming disdain was carefully concealed behind his lopsided smile. She had to at least hand that to him, he was terribly well-versed in the art of politics. He had been thought good. Even that cocky prince knew that he ought to stay in her and Naseem's good graces to maintain a friendly relationship between the Temple and the Royal Family. Briefly, little Noor saw his eyes flutter toward Myron and a barely disgusted expression crossed in face before he focused on her again, all smile.

" _Your Highness_."

She held his gaze for approximately three seconds before dipping into a bow, eyes not missing the slight shift in his posture that indicated that he appreciated the gesture. She waited 5 seconds before straightening, tilting her head slightly to the right to offer him, she hoped, a totally harmless smile. The less concupiscent, the better. Meeting the prince here was actually a blessing in disguise. The Emperor was distancing himself from Scheherazade and strengthening the faux-amiability between her and the Prince would enable her to have eyes in the royal affairs. Further away in the dining hall, she could see Naseem discuss amiably with the Emperor's financial advisers. _Way to go, Naseem_.

"It has been a while indeed, thus the shared pleasure at finally seeing his Highness once more. If I may say, you seem to have grown even taller and sturdier, your Highness."

Noor wasn't an expert in the political field, not by a long-shot. Even so, she could tell that if she was still a newborn, then the Prince was nothing more than a fetus. The way he stuck out his chest after her words immediately alerted her that he had easily fell for it. Preventing herself from making a face or laughing–whichever would come first and it was even worst to hold back with Myron silently shaking in laughter beside her–she offered him a closed-lipped smile.

"Also, because it saddened me not to be present for his Highness's birthday, this Noor asks for the permission of wishing the Prince Nerva a happy birthday, may health and wealth be with you as it has been till now."

The prince beamed at her words–if he was trying to hide it, she had overestimated his talent in the art of concealing his emotions–and offered her a satisfied smile that she accepted with a quick dip of her head. Visibly done with their conversation, the prince offered her a brief nod and turned on his heels. Little Noor waited for him to be out of hearing range to heave a sigh. He was surprisingly easy to deal with but she had always preferred the company of straight-forward and literal-minded individuals. As if on cue, Myron huffed, lips pursed in a totally unladylike pout.

"He ignored me."

"Of course he would. Why do you even seem surprised?"

Myron grumbled something that Noor didn't even try to understand. The Peyrus girl shifted her focus elsewhere instead, keeping a close watch on the balance of politics. Only a fool could believe that the emperor had rallied the country. Even within Remano– no, even within the Council that helped the Emperor to make decisions, there were different factions. Those who supported the actual Emperor, those who still supported the previous Emperor; and the most dangerous ones, those who were fed up with Scheherazade's stranglehold of the power and wished to both overthrow the Emperor and put an end to the Temple's system, in which Scheherazade acted as an adviser to the ruler. In other words, they wanted the magi out. Little Noor knew that Naseem's and hers information network was efficient but there was a limit to the information one could glean.

Noor knew better than to worry about possible traitors when there was no concrete proof nor anything to incriminate them. It wasn't like her to angst over such matter when they had neither influence nor resources enough to see their plan through to the end. Who would be foolish enough to outwardly defy Scheherazade? Put it simply, defying Scheherazade meant war. Out of principle, the Emperor would side with the great Priestess and if miraculously enough, the renegade faction managed to reunite partisans enough, the fanalis Corps would step in at Muu's order and the macro-revolution would die down. Even if Noor casted this scenario aside, Scheherazade was a magi, she could flatten half the population by just waving her scepter. She blamed the discussion she had had with Naseem the day before. The boy's informant had managed to glean a single information that had unsettled the both of them. The man who had been responsible for Myron's abduction two years and a half ago was part of the third faction. If he had been cunning enough to set up his slave trading within Remano without anyone noticing, his involvement meant bad news. _Real bad news_.

"Something wrong?" Myron mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her dress.

Once more, Noor felt awed by the younger girl's ability at reading her like an open book.

"I'm a bit tired, I guess. I haven't participated in this kind of gathering for some time now, it is quite unsettling to say the truth. Would it be rude if we were to head home now?"

" _You're asking_ _me_?"

"Never mind then."

Only after three more hours, did Noor decide that they had wasted enough time to be considered sufficient. She offered a polite, closed-lips smile at the war Veterans she had been talking to for the past twenty minutes, turned on her heels, eyes searching for Muu and immediately spotted him. She raised a brow as she made her way toward him, observing the way the woman he was chatting with inconspicuously pressed her chest again the fanalis's arm and exposed more cleavage. _Oh, she's good_ , little Noor inwardly commented, relishing the definitely uneasy expression of her leader. Women were frightening creatures, definitely. If she hadn't spent so much time honing her skill in the politics and economics, she would've like to refine these kind of skills as well. There was so much that a woman could do with only her mouth after all and Solomon knew that the female body was a weapon on its own.

Some women like Myron, Razol and half the fanalis Corps would probably berate her if they knew how diminutive Noor treated the woman but even so, lecherous men were everywhere and every assets could be decisive. Of course, she didn't mean that _offering_ her body was good. No, a woman's body was precious. There was nothing fundamentally wrong in the act of seduction but going further was just plainly degrading. There was no merit to get what one wanted if they gave up on their soul and body beforehand. She had had no time to think about men till now but unlike her mentors, Noor hoped that she would one day get married and have children. She was already twenty-one. Even if her age meant nothing at the moment as she was still young and healthy, she would keep on aging. After all, human beings were but grains of sands in the wide desert that was life. As fate was fickle and capricious, so were human beings.

" _Excuse me_."

The woman–who in the mere seconds she had been lost in her thoughts, had gotten on her tiptoes to whisper something in Muu's ears; little Noor realized, baffled–glanced her way and glowered at her, infuriated to have her time with the Alexius spoiled. Unlike her, Muu seemed totally relieved and surreptitiously gave her a thumb-up. Not wanting to get on the woman's wrong side even more, Noor prevented herself to roll her eyes. She peeked at the woman under her lashed–oh, she knew that face! the daughter of the late General Jameel, wasn't she?–and promptly looked away, focus zeroing in on Muu's face to ignore the hostile eyes.

"Myron and I will depart shortly." She announced without beating around the bush, uncomfortable under the woman's scrutiny.

 _Women were scary_.

"Oh, I understand." Muu was good. Really good. She couldn't hear the blatant relief he was probably feeling. "Then I will–"

" _Captain ~_ " The woman–her name was… _Martha_ , right?–drawled in a husky voice, latching onto Muu's upper arm.

Little Noor cringed at the display and immediately adverted her eyes, uncomfortable all of sudden with the situation. Seeing her leader being teased from afar by an unknown woman was fine but watching the said woman press herself against Muu in an almost inappropriate manner was something else. Noor felt her cheeks burn even as she rubbed her sleeves against them to make the flush disappear. The woman–Martha–even with her whole body pressed against Muu's side, was staring at her with something akin to disdain. Little Noor couldn't even understand the animosity in the first place as the world would stop existing if Muu ever considered her as a love interest. Hell, even the thought sounded absurd!

"Weren't we having a good time?" The woman whispered in a low voice–for the first time, little Noor cursed her enhanced hearing,–frustratingly seductive. "That woman of low importance couldn't offer you what I–"

"Thank you for your company, Lady Martha." Muu cut her off with a pleasant voice, not a hint of the cold fury glinting in his eyes heard in his voice. "I wish you a good night."

Just like that, he detached the woman from him gently but firmly and yanked the younger fanalis behind him as he walked away, steps quicker than usual. _She had pushed his buttons_ , little Noor realized uneasily, shifting uncomfortably as Muu adjusted his grip to hold her wrist. His hold was disagreeable but nothing she couldn't handle and as they proceeded easily through the crowd, she gestured at Naseem when their eyes met, to take care of Myron who was standing in the middle of a group of girls her age and looking absolutely bored. Naseem gave her a thumb-up and she nodded in thanks. Ten seconds later, Muu and her reached the outside and she took a deep breath, realizing how hot and cramped it had been inside. After 10 minutes of intense walking and silence, she decided that Muu had cooled down enough and jiggled her wrist, careful to be absolutely gentle. As much as she trusted Muu, he was tired, irritated and frustrated by a long night during which he had had to maintain a flawless outward. The incident with the woman was probably bothering him that much since he had reached a point when he could barely pretend anymore.

Muu glanced her away above his shoulder and Noor immediately tensed up. She berated her body for betraying her when Muu hadn't shown himself threatening. Even so… fanalis were creatures of instinct and despite his relaxed pose, the neutral eyes he was staring her with were making her wary. She didn't relax even when he let go of her, watching him warily. People often forgot, but she didn't. Muu Alexius was no man. He could hide it and disguise himself as much as he wanted, she knew that he was no man. _He had said so himself_. Fanalis might be human beings on _this_ side, it wasn't their nature. Muu Alexius was no man and neither was she. They were beasts, monsters, animals. _Fanalis were no human beings_. In front of her, eerily calm and composed, there was no man but an angry and frustrated beast ready to pounce on her at any given moment. Muu's pupils started to dilate and Noor forced her legs to stay still, not to give in to the urge to flee. _Fight or flight_. If she were to take even a step back, the man in front of her would lose it and cease to be a man. Thence, even as blood pumped loudly in her ears and her arms started to shake with fear, she stayed still. Even as Muu finally turned around to fully face her, she didn't move. Even as he slightly leaned forward, ready to pounce on her, she didn't move. _Muu Alexius was no man_.

He sprung and little Noor closed her eyes, still not moving.

 _Fanalis were no human beings_.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Ugh, so I managed it huh. Got trouble for this chapter, a new Arc's coming and I didn't know if starting it right away would sound good. So I made a compromise. I wanted a light tone since the end of the chapter's quite disheartening and the next chapters may not be better. Several key points in this chapter: shitty Noor is coming to an end with her insecurities and about damn time, politics obviously and both Noor and Muu's nonexistent love life. Aren't those two kind of pitful? On top of being two dumb single grown-ups, there're no romantic feelings whatsoever between the two of them, ugh. I knew I said it was supposed to be slow-paced but sometimes, it surprises even me.

By the way, does Muu seem weird? Out of character? He's a real pain in the ass y'know? Some people describe him as some flirtatious male but I think it would kinda destroy the character since he's been in love with Scheherazade since he was a little kid. He's got to be kinda prude in some ways. He strikes me as the kind of person that would look absolutely cool and used to women but super akward in reality. Like a teenager in a way, since he hasn't had time to enjoy his teen, too busy to conquer a dungeon, crossing the Great Rift and meeting Lo'lo. In reality, Muu sometimes seems kind of pathetic. Yeah, I really wonder why I like him so much sometimes. And he deserves so much better. Not particularly the spotlight but he's a character with so much potential, ugh. Something else than his loyal watchdog persona. UGH.

By the way, I wondered if the chronology was bothering anyone, I've never given it that much attention since I thought it was pretty clear. If there are any problems, here's a rough draft of the story till now:

-Noor is found by Alva and Himalia: 7 years old

-Noor's first time in Kou: 12 years old

-Alva and Himalia's death: 12 years old

-Dungeon diving: 12 years old (holy shit, did I really write that?)

-Second time in Kou: 16 years old

-Muu's return: 18 years old

-Myron's abduction: 18 years old

-Noor flees from Reim: 20 years old

-Current timeline: 21 years old.

It means both Lo'lo and Muu are 27. Naseem's 19 and Myron 18. It's two years and a half from the canon-timeline. Well, the begining at least.

As for the hierarchy I instaured in Reim since the manga doesn't give any details as to how is the country administrated:

The Emperor is the Emperor, he has the final decision in the Council and decrees can't pass if he doesn't agree. With the Emperor, there's the Council who votes to accept the decrees. It's a show of hands, the majority wins unless the Emperor uses his right to veto. It's the steering committee that submits the decrees, only the legislative ones. The financial adviser submits the economical decrees and advise the Emperor as to how use the money for the state. There probably are subdivisions and everything but I haven't thought that far.

There are two main forces in Reim: The royal Family with the Emperor and the Temple with the Great Priestess. The soldiers are under the royal family's jurisdiction and the fanalis Corps under Scheherazade's. She's the one who takes care of the Department of Research and Development that was created by Alva when he was still alive. The Temple has its own soldiers but in lesser number. They usually don't take part in the outside conflicts and their sole task is to protect the Temple and Scheherazade. The Temple is mainly in charge of the religion within Reim aside from politics. Reim is a polytheistic country, by the way. Solomon's good and everything but does he even count as a god?

Ugh, my Reim is kinda vastly different from the canon one, I think. Well, I get to add details if I want this story to take shape so sorry for all the confusing stuff. If there's anything confusing, MP me. I'll answer- or I'll try to anyway.

Well, that's it. I haven't that much work lately and a week of holiday starting from next week so I'll try to have the next chapter ready by the 15th of November. No promise, but I'll try really hard.

Oh, that chapter wasn't proofread, got no time and felt lazy as hell so bear with it for now.

(Funny how I'm always saying I'll correct the mistakes but never do it.)

Anyway, have a good day!


	11. Body and Mind

**Guest -** Well, I think I'd go mad if there weren't any Noor-Muu moments. I mean, I know I said that it'll be slow-burn but... argh! The both of them are just so frustrating! Teha, I get what you mean, sometimes I feel like not writing for 6 months. Then I just open my laptop and before I know it I got 15 pages on Word. Well, my habit is to never say never so if I decide to discontinue this story some day, as I do not like to be kept in the dark myself, I'll post a notice. I totally got your feelings about Muu, the reason why I decided to make the story revolve around this pairing is because I was angry on his behalf. I am starting a revolution on his behalf, beware dear readers. That being said, you might want to shoot me or something at the end of this chapter... Please, keep saying that you will follow me, it is really heartwarming and good for my ego. I hope this story will stay to your liking.

 **Miguela -** Me benevolent author-sama will answer you no matter how offensive I find this review. I thank you for following Lionheart, I hope you enjoy the story and will keep follow it. Please, kindly refrain from reviewing just to tell me to update, I find it quite upsetting. I am no maching, not even a native so I cannot produce a chapter with a snap of my fingers. That being said, I thank you again for your review and your presence and hope that I will see you again in the future.

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter XI: _Body and Mind_

* * *

 **Chimera**

* * *

Dreams were strange. Little Noor had understood at a young age that no matter how vivid, how true it might seem, dreams were only that. _Dreams_. There were several types of dreams, she had learnt how to distinguish them at an early age. She had always been a heavy dreamer, no matter how ironic it could sound considering the fact that the slightest noise could wake her. Most of the time, she dreamt about nonsensical things, her most recent dream being a giant broom seizing the capital and enslaving the citizens. She forgot most of her dreams anyway and when she managed to remember them, they were often too embarrassing to be mentioned. She had often wondered whether the subconscious made-up the dreams, picking up the things one was the most focused on before falling asleep. It was absolutely ridiculous because Noor had never touched a broom in her life and had never even thought about it before her dream.

Then, there were those rare instances when she dreamt about more important things and managed to remember those dreams. When it happened, she was often too shaken up to even think about falling asleep again. The first time it had happened, 3 years after her arrival in Remano, she had panicked and triggered a panic attack. Even now, she could remember the sheer terror she had felt back then, the hollow feeling of hands squeezing her throat and choking her. She had curled up and cried, _cried_ , _cried_. Then, Alva's calloused hands had encircled her and pressed her against his chest until the urge to throw up had subsided. Those kinds of dreams were rare and she had learned how to differentiate dreams and reality. Even if it felt real, even if she was feeling the phantom pain, it wasn't real. More than dreams, little Noor knew that she was reviving memories. Memories from a past she had erased and buried. Memories of a past she had never talked about to anyone and never would.

Then, the strange dream. There were no other words to describe it other than _strange dream_. It occurred from time to time, completely randomly and even if she knew that she was _dreaming_ , little Noor often forgot that everything in that dreams wasn't real. The first one had been on her fifteenth birthday. She could remember every detail of the _strange dream_ without even concentrating. She had been standing in the middle of a corridor and she had walked for what felt like _years_. She had never felt any thirst nor hunger. She had walked, metal Vessel pulsing against her cheek, feeling strangely light and totally appeased. Then at last, after what felt like an eternity, she had reached a double-door. A soothing rumble had echoed everywhere and nowhere around her, her perception had distorted, the floor had stretched, the door had twisted, the color had started to blend and then it had snapped back in place as if nothing was wrong in the first place. In the following silence, the double-door had half-opened and a hand had reached for her, cupped her face… and little Noor had woken up with a start, drenched in sweat and heart pounding madly. After a second, then a third time, she had realized that she would never figure out _who_ she was dreaming about as the dream always reached an end at the same point.

Conclusion: _dreams were strange_. Nonsensical, reminiscent of old memories or simply completely odd, dreams remained dreams. In a sense, they enabled to escape reality. They weren't always pleasant but even so, little Noor could confidently say that she _liked_ dreaming. Or rather, she had learnt that in her case, dreams ought to be likeable. She more than anyone else had to distinguish perfectly the border between dreams and reality in order to be able to blur it. Noor didn't only dream, she _summoned_ dreams.

* * *

 **Wavelength**

* * *

The first time little Noor managed to _equip_ her Djinn–a whole 6 months before Muu, she reminded him smugly–she was 20. After 8 years of struggling, she was happy to say that she had finally made progress. Even if she could maintain it for 30 seconds only, considering her low magoi, it was an achievement. _And she had mastered it_ _ **before**_ _Muu_. Noor had always had troubles with Beleth's powers. They just… _didn't match_. Muu and Barbatos were perfectly in synch, what better than a Djinn whose main affinity was _strength_ for fanalis who only used strength? She wasn't as comfortable with her Djinn as Muu was. Beleth's powers were peculiar and when she _did_ know how they worked, it didn't mean that she knew how to _make_ them work. Her lack of magoi hadn't been the sole reason of her slow-paced progresses. No, her inability to even comprehend her Djinn had been. It was ironic, how she had come to understand him, all of a sudden. How the loneliness and the guilt had triggered this change in her interactions with Beleth. Her Djinn, much more than her, had been so infinitely lonely.

Too busy to care about Reim to concern herself with his moods, little Noor had been perfectly content with forgetting her metal Vessel's existence in favor of her own little problems. She _did_ train with her metal Vessel of course, but not as much nor as diligently as she trained her own body. Shamefully, little Noor had realized that she had started seeing the Djinn as a liability. She couldn't use his powers and besides, he was a mere tool with no voice to complain. _She had taken Beleth's presence for granted_. The Djinn had always been there when she had needed comfort, not vocally but finding a way to remind her of his presence. He had supported her despite her blatant dismissal. Little Noor was no magi, she had no means to interact with him to thank him for everything he did. It did not mean that there was no way to show him her appreciation.

Beleth was different from the other Djinns, that much she could tell. Or maybe, the other Djinns were the strange ones, hard to tell when she had never met any but the one she owned. She had observed Muu and Commander Ignatius and the way their Djinn's powers manifested however and logically concluded that even if each Djinn owned different types of power, there were still required steps to follow to be able to use these power. It was the reason why things always seemed tricky with Beleth. Her Djinn used the third and eighth types of magic, Light and Life Magic. The difference between her Djinn and… Muu's for instance, was that Barbatos used the body of his owner. Muu channeled the abilities of his Djinn through a weapon, through his body. She did not. Or rather, _could not_. Strength Magic wasn't omnipresent in the air like Light and Life Magic were. So, when Muu called forth his Djinn and his powers, Noor called her Djinn and his powers back. It was hard for magoi-less-ish people like fanalis to try and force back in something that wasn't exactly theirs in the first place.

Beleth was cunning and ruthless. He did not overpower his opponents with his abilities, he forced people's powers against them. Beleth didn't force dreams or illusions on people, he called forth their own dreams and illusions. He probed his enemies, found their most buried dreams and yearning and offered them to them. He did nothing but show them what they wanted to be shown. Some people may call it merciful, she knew that it was nothing but cruelty. People were blinded by their own aspiration, drowned in the visions offered and meanwhile Beleth was slowly absorbing their vital energy. He powered the Light Magic with the Life Magic. He didn't technically used the magoi of his owner per se, only his opponent's. The truth being, triggering this chain of event in her targets required a thunderous amount of magoi that she did not own. The rest of the process wouldn't require her magoi at all but if she didn't have any to start it, then it was all for naught.

Equipping her Djinn meant watching passively the process as that form was strong enough for her to stand here and do nothing, only wave her wand and wait for the magic to act on its own. When she only used the weapon however–she could hold it for 6 solid minutes now–a solid hit was necessary in order to disrupt the flow of magoi in the enemy, thus triggering Beleth's powers. _She had been a fool_. Disregarding her Djinn's potency when it was much more than everything she could ever ask, when it fitted her more than any other power did. Little Noor was _feral_ like any other fanalis, she liked fighting, blood, the sound of her opponent's bones shattering and the sheer terror radiating from them when they realized the kind of _monsters_ fanalis were. As disturbing as it could sound, instilling this terror in her opponent's mind felt _good_. It wasn't just physical anymore, she could crush them even within _their own mind_. It was exhilarating and during her time outside Reim, she had unashamedly rejoiced in testing her Djinn's abilities on local bandits and whatever in the slowest and most painful way possible. _She liked blood_. _She liked screams_. _She liked killing people_. At first, she had been repulsed by her ability to take someone's life with minimal efforts. Soon after, it had been so exhilarating that she had started to do so whenever she could, so long as the person deserved it. And neither she, nor anyone in the fanalis Corps were bothered by that tendency they all shared anymore.

Her wand swirled as little Noor decided that she was spent enough. Completely still, barely two meters away from her, Muu sagged like a ragged doll. She had been sucking on his vital energy for 13 seconds–20 were enough to kill an average grown-up–and felt like she had been doing that for an eternity. She felt like she'd been running around for 3 hours straight, without being able to catch a breather. She lowered her wand, drinking in the sight of her equip even after all this time. Her first reaction had been a deadpanned ' _inappropriate_ '. She could do without the revealing attire; it was more embarrassing than anything else. Even if she _did_ think that a woman's body was a weapon, wearing such… scanty clothing was too much. _Especially for her_. After fretting over the whole ordeal, she had rationalized by realizing that unlike her, Beleth was a _male_. Of course he wouldn't wear clothing fitting a woman. The bottom was okay. Four pieces of silk fell on her legs, transparent enough for her legs to be seen through, solidly held by a thin belt. Fortunately, the undergarments didn't disappear with the rest because otherwise, Noor would be _very_ embarrassed. Thank god, the silk was thick enough that her underpants remained unseen even with the small spaces between each part.

 _The problem wasn't the bottom_. Her body wasn't something that Noor often concerned herself with. She was a woman alright, but she saw herself as a _female_ more than a woman. Yes, it annoyed her sometimes that Myron's chest kept on growing when hers had stopped a _long_ time ago but even so, it didn't really matter. _It did not mean that she was okay with everyone having a full view of it_. Right, full view might be excessive, but she showed more cleavage than she was comfortable showing. A single strip of linen was fastened around her breasts, tight enough not to slip in any circumstance (or the weird gravity thingy Djinn seemed to have kept it put) barely covered by a sash made of tulle, hanging loose on her hips. She also wore spaulders and bracelets made of mother-of-pearl. For lack of better words, if she had to define Beleth based on her attire, it would be either confident of neglectful. Either the Djinn knew his enemy wouldn't stand a chance against him or he just didn't care. His attire wasn't meant for battle; it was a lot more refined that what Muu wore when he equipped Barbatos too. The wand in her hand, with a blade on each side and so short that it could pass for a chakram rather than an actual wand, was a lot more dangerous that she had given it credit for at first. Magic wasn't the only thing Beleth _could_ _do_ after all.

 _Focus_ , little Noor berated herself, waving her wand to make the equip disappear. Even if the silvery shade her hair took when she equipped her Djinn was enthralling, she still preferred her vibrant red hair. The ability to fly was exhilarating too, with her strangely-shaped pearly wings, but her body still felt _better_. Her knees buckled as Beleth's magic finally faded and the she-fanalis realized that she was drenched in sweat, ready to keel over. _Djinn equip, alright_. She needed to assess Muu's state first though, as even after 3 whole minutes, the fanalis was still on his knees, gasping for air. Heavily, she limped toward him, reattaching her metal Vessel to her ear with shaky fingers. The tension had left Muu's shoulders and when he tilted his head toward her, she noticed with relief that he had come around. _Good_. Luring him into attacking her to knock some sense into him through Beleth had taken its toll and she was exhausted.

Muu glanced at her and she vaguely gestured with her hand, not trusting her voice. His lips twitched upward and she exhaled loudly, plumping down beside him. Only their ragged breath echoed in the silence, neither able to muster enough strength to _crawl_ home at this point. It was all right though, Lo'lo would start worrying soon like the mother-hen he denied he was and order everyone to _go_ and _fetch_ them. She snickered under her breath, ignoring Muu's inquisitive eyes. It was during those times that she realized _how far_ she was ready to go for them. _No, how far she was ready to go for Muu_. So close to him that she could feel his body heat, hear his hear beating in his chest, she understood and resigned herself to the fact that _this_ was a mere glimpse of the length she–no, all of them would be ready to go if Muu only even hinted at it. It seemed so appalling and yet so normal, how much a sole individual could impact dozens of lives. She _liked_ Muu, _loved_ him, _adored_ him, whatever word was enough to convey this overwhelming affection she had for him. If Muu Alexius ever asked her to die for him, she would do so without hesitation.

* * *

 **Tidal Wave**

* * *

Everyone in the mansion seemed to believe that because she had no trouble whatsoever to handle Razol and Myron–both easily the most troublesome individuals within the Fanalis Corps; Lo'lo was troublesome too but less often and at a lesser scale–she was the perfect candidate for _babysitting_. Granted, _babysitting_ might be demeaning but still, why was she the one taking care of their youngest, _youngest_ members when she had _duties to attend to_? Fine, 12 wasn't that young and compared to some others, their _babies_ weren't _that_ immature but still, had they ever tried to put themselves in her shoes? Even Muu, kind and considerate Muu, had chickened out and fled behind her back. _Traitors the whole of them!_ Razol had been the only one kind enough to give her a hand and frankly speaking, Noor felt like babysitting _Razol_ rather than the _twin babies_ **[1]**.

As little Noor had observed their _babies_ , fidgeting under her scrutiny, she had realized that when most of the grown-ups– _plus Razol_ –had a chance to blow off some steam by thrashing some local bandits, the kids who weren't allowed _too far_ outside Remano had built up a lot of frustration. Little Noor knew that when she had been 12, staying put inside Remano when her instincts screamed to _go and_ _run already_ , had been a losing battle. She couldn't even count the number of times Muu had been sent to forcefully retrieve her. That's why she decided to bring them outside Remano on that day. Razol was buzzing with excitement, trying and failing to hide her enthusiasm and the twins were fidgeting behind her, the cutest expression she had ever seen on their face. They had to patrol half an hour to finally find a group of bandits but it was definitely worth it.

Bandits usually organized themselves in small groups of maximum 10 persons to operate, it was more discreet and more efficient. On that day however, half an hour away from Remano at fanalis speed, it seemed like they had decided to operate with a large group. 27 ugly-faced men were hiding behind trees–at least, they knew how to hide–leering at an innocent caravan slowly progressing toward the capital. The kids turned toward her, mouth already open to ask for permission and she waved toward the bandits to authorize them. The kids jumped toward them before the bandits could take action. They crashed into the closest men, destroying 4 trees in passing and scaring the cart driver who jumped three feet in the air and stopped the caravan in panic. His timing was good, Noor decided as she passively watched Razol jump in the fray and destroy the road with an ill-tossed boulder.

Fanalis sure were ruthless. After a few seconds only, only a handful of bandits remained already, each of them frozen on their spot as they watched the three _beasts_ break bones and shatter skulls barehanded. It was entertaining at least and she was relieved to see the _kids_ enjoy themselves. Even if to most people, thrash people wasn't something that ought to be considered enjoyment, there was nothing more satisfying to them, members of the fanalis Corps. They might be loyal to Scheherazade and Reim, it didn't mean they had to be nonviolent like the magi was. It was a pleasant day with an amusing activity and little Noor could ask nothing more than spend every day in that fashion.

 _But of course, it could not. Of course, of course something had to go wrong_.

" _Razol watch out!_ "

Fanalis were conceited. It wasn't a secret. They believed in their strength and thought themselves almost invincible. It was true after all, who could stand up to them? _Dungeons Conquerors_? _Magi_? There were two dungeon conquerors in the fanalis Corps and they had a magi on their side. What could they be afraid of? _Wounds_? Apart from Yambala Gladiators, there weren't a lot of people able to inflict wounds to fanalis. _Magicians_? Little Noor had never fought a magician but she was confident in her ability to _crush_ them. Fanalis were pretentious for sure, but it was because they had faith in their strength. It wasn't baseless arrogance, it only meant that they were aware of their position. _The Fanalis were the strongest tribe in the world_. They were strong and fast. And in Razol's case, careless enough to let an ugly, scar-faced bandit sneak up on her and slash her left arm.

Little Noor pounced as Razol– _stupid, stupid Razol_ –turned around to confront her assaulter thus forgetting the one she had been occupied with and offering him her unprotected back. _She was too far_ , Noor realized with growing anger, as Razol punched her offender and let herself totally vulnerable to the one who was brandishing his axe behind her. _She was 2 meters too short_. Razol was turning around but the axe was already five inches from her collar bone, ready to rip off everything it would encounter. Little Noor caught the exact moment Razol finally realized the situation she was in, the way her eyes widened and her jaw tightened as she anticipated the pain. The axe grazed her skin… and two wires wrapped around the weapon, stopping it just in time as blood spurted from the shallow cut. Razol immediately jumped backward, colliding with the cart driver who yelped and little Noor crouched as she landed, warily eyeing the man who had been frozen in motion. His eyes were wide with disbelief and he was trying to shake off the wire without success. Noor briefly glanced at the two kids who were _playing tag_ with the remaining bandits and focused on Razol, who was pressing a hand on her cut.

" _It was a close call_."

Wary, little Noor raised her head toward the man who had prevented Razol from getting hurt. Her hands twitched nervously as she realized that she couldn't pick up his scent **[2]**. He smelled absolutely nothing. His body language wasn't threatening, but his eyes were pinning the bandit down with the coldest eyes she had ever seen. Kneeling on the roof of the cart, he seemed short. Noor was sure that he was shorter than her, by at least two inches. He had the palest skin she had ever seen and his hair were completely white. And above all, his killing intent was making her anxious. She had never been exposed to such a thing. It wasn't suffocating like Muu's or barbaric like Lo'lo's, it just gave goosebumps. It was like something was prowling in the dark and waiting to pounce on her. Across from her, Razol was fidgeting nervously and shaking her hands to get rid of the unsettling feeling.

"Attacking a defenseless child, how unsightly." The stranger hissed, his killing intent intensifying.

Both fanalis blinked, _a child_? The stranger yanked his wires, the bandit stumbled and the sound of his neck snapping echoed in the forest. The cart driver–he was trying to crawl away from Razol unsuccessfully–cringed at the noise and started to sweat when the lifeless body dropped. _He was skilled, too skilled_ , little Noor realized with panic, left hand twitching with the urge to reach for her metal Vessel. The stranger blinked as the body dropped and the killing intent dissipated. He lowered his head toward Razol whose eyes widened and Noor forced herself to stay still as Razol jumped behind her and grabbed a fistful of her clothes, hands shaking in fear. The stranger blinked at the display and tried a comforting smile that put both of them on the edge. Silently, Razol drew over the kids and ordered them to _stay put_. The stranger jumped on the ground, raised his hands in the universal gesture of peace and slowly turned his head toward the caravan.

"It's clear." He said simply, loud enough for the four of them to hear him. _They would've heard him regardless_.

Little Noor tensed up as people exited the caravan, feeling disgustingly frightened. A dragon-like _creature_ got down first; it smelt like cleanly knight and dandy smell **[3]** , as weird as it could sound. She immediately guessed the race of the second man even if she had never seen one before. He was an Imuchakk, his azure hair and gigantic size gave him away. She started as the third one's eyes locked with her, restraining her instinct to extend her hand toward him. _A fanalis_. _A fanalis_. Her eyes caught his, only a brief, flitting moment but something churned in her stomach and she physically prevented herself to fidget. Razol shifted behind her but Noor elbowed her to stop her from doing anything stupid. The members of the fanalis Corps would never attack a follow fanalis, even if they had different affiliations. The problem wasn't the man, it was the people surrounding him. If Razol ever laid her hands on him, she would want to bring him back with her and that could, _no would_ become a huge problem.

When the last man exited the caravan, all pieces finally clicked and little Noor forced her body to _stay still_. Even if the physical appearance made it obvious, his countenance struck her more than anything. She hadn't ever see anyone–not even Muu–with such a charisma. Not only threatening, his presence was like a gigantic tsunami, looming over people and ready to overwhelm them. Even as a fanalis, even with the knowledge that she was far stronger than him physically speaking, little Noor felt threatened with him only standing there and doing nothing. His eyes seemed to see right through her soul and his smile, though lazy and easy-going, was sending shivers down her spine. _It wasn't good_. She was feeling crushed by his presence when he had done nothing to give her that impression. _It wasn't good_. The kids were frozen behind her and Razol was fidgety again, all of them feeling overwhelmed by his single existence. _They had to get out of here_.

"Are you all right?" The white-haired one enquired politely, eyes glued on the children behind her.

Little Noor jumped when the twins started to growl at the same time, eyes narrowed and muscles bent, ready to pounce. She shifted to be able to face them and scowl at them, head tilting slightly to the right to appear more threatening. They immediately shut their mouth and stood up straighter, momentarily forgetting the _danger_. Harsher than usual because of the tension, Noor curled her upper-lip to bare her teeth. The children immediately backed away, not willing to anger her more than she already was.

"We are fine." She answered slowly, struggling to find her voice. "Thank you for your assistance. You do not need to–"

"I wonder," the _High King of the Seven Seas_ cut her off, calmly making his way toward them until he was right in front of her, "what such a lovely woman and three children are doing here, fanalis or not."

Unable to find her voice, little Noor only shrugged, staring right in front of her to avoid his burning eyes. _Get out of here now_ , her instincts screamed and she would gladly listen to them. Wordlessly, she gestured to Razol who immediately darted to the kids and power-walked in the direction of Remano, the two children hot on her heels. Polite but as frantic as Razol, she gave a quick bow and turned on her heels, ready to _get out of here_. The King of Sindria grabbed her wrist however and she forcefully wrested it away making him stagger backward. She bared her teeth, ready to draw blood at this point, but the fanalis Sinbad had on his side put an end on his shoulder to prevent him from approaching her again. She narrowed her eyes, body shaking with anger and _fear, fear, fear, fear, fear_ … and physically restrained herself from assaulting him by digging her nails in her palms, hard enough to draw blood. Wordlessly, she turned on her heels to follow Razol's lead, forcing herself to walk calmly. It was official, the King of Sindria was _terrifying_ her.

* * *

 **Currents**

* * *

"Oh, it's _you_."

Little Noor said nothing, ignored Naseem as he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes and bowed in front of the Emperor, not finding it in herself to smile at him like she always did. She had spent the last twelve hours in Muu's bedroom, trying to stop her shivers. She had never felt so hopeless, so openly terrified in her life. She didn't know if it was good or bad, didn't even care, Sinbad _scared_ her. It felt like the whole world was crashing onto her. Razol had related everything that had happened and after finally managing to calm down, she had napped in Muu's bedroom, still too shaky to leave the comfort of her leader's space. Yet, here she was in front of him again.

"Your Majesty," she greeted quietly, focusing on the Emperor to ignore the foreign King beside him, "lady Scheherazade is unable to meet the two of you at the moment. She therefore sends both Naseem and I to greet you in her stead. Welcome to Reim, King Sinbad, may your stay in our country prove itself fruitful."

She and Naseem stood up at once, faces carefully blank. Scheherazade had refused to meet the King of Sindria for the past two years and it was the first time that she sent Naseem and her greet him in her stead. She usually ignored his visits altogether and acted as if he wasn't even here. Sinbad wasn't _welcomed_ by the Temple and only the Royal Family bothered itself with him. Why would Scheherazade want to start and show politeness when she had never bothered before?

"In her stead?" The King of Sindria repeated, cupping his cheek with his right hand.

" _Oh,_ these two Naseem and Noor are the representative of the Temple. They are lady Scheherazade's closest advisers."

The King of Sindria hummed thoughtfully as he stared at them and Noor stared at an invisible point past their shoulders to give the illusion that she was looking in their general direction. _Naseem stifled a yawn._ And she rolled her eyes, unable to believe that his bad-manners could pop out in this kind of situation. Catching her eyes, the boy gave her a boyish grin and she rolled her eyes once more, relaxed despite herself by his carefree attitude.

"…then perhaps, the both of them could entertain the King of Sindria during his stay."

Little Noor didn't even need to try to look offended. She was a member of the Peyrus family _and_ an advisor to the Great Priestess _and_ a member of the fanalis Corps, what, did they think her time was unlimited or something? That she was some kind of machine able to work without any rest? That the _immature children_ in the fanalis Corps would stay put while she was busy with something else? That Scheherazade wouldn't mind her skipping her duties because of an esteemed guest?

"If your Majesty wishes so." She answered at the same time as Naseem, too respectful to voice all her complaints.

She tuned out the rest of their discussion, eyes focused on Naseem who was waving his hands in specific gestures, _love_ , _woman_ , _adult_ and _touch_ , a sign language they had created in order to be able to communicate inconspicuously and silently. _Weak against women_. The King of Sindria was infamous for his weakness against women. He had seduced more women than a country could count and despite the wariness the female sex naturally felt around him, he seemed to have a way to get in their good graces. If she hadn't been so afraid of him to feel anything else, little Noor wondered if he would've been able to seduce her. He was _that_ of an attractive man after all and to have a king of all people be interested in oneself was flattering. _Very flattering_. Not that she would've been delusional enough to expect anything from him, everyone knew that the man seduced women the same way he breathed, like a second nature. Take an interest in a woman was probably something compulsory or something. _Or he just like women that much_.

"…I shall take my leave then." Sinbad of the Seven Seas announced enthusiastically.

Little Noor raised two fingers behind her sleeves, confident that Naseem was observing the gesture, and formed a fist, before setting her palm flat against her forearm. The boy tilted his head and she shook hers, pressing her forefinger against her wrist. _Entertainment for two hours. No Department of Research and Development. No Temple_. _No Fanalis Corps_. _Stalling at the Colosseum_. She turned back towards the two sovereigns and cringed when she realized that the High King of the Seven Seas had observed their silent communication. She forced herself not to react when he walked past the two of them, focusing on the Emperor who was unnervingly silent.

"Observe him." He ordered them silently as soon as the foreign King passed the door. "I trust you to keep an eye on him. You mustn't, under any circumstances, let him discover what makes our country as strong as it is. Do not _lose_ him, have I made myself clear?"

"Yes your Majesty." They answered solemnly.

The Emperor observed them some more, then nodded his head to give them his ascent (and dismiss them). Both Naseem and she stuck out their chest and put their right fist against their heart, eyes staring straight in front of them, countenance unwavering. They remained frozen for three seconds before finally taking their leave. If the Emperor was weary _of all people_ of the King of Sindria, then the man was a threat. Little Noor knew that the Seven Seas Alliance was a threat. Not in par with Reim yet, they were still a forced to be reckoned with. The Seven Seas Alliance was an alliance of _5_ countries however, it meant that their force was divided in five. Seeing the First Class Singularity threaten a whole country on its own made a big difference however. It seemed that Sinbad represented himself _a third_ of the Seven Seas Alliance. _He was a threat_. A threat little Noor wished it could be dealt with. Taking care of Sinbad here would trigger war however and Reim wasn't intent on taking part at the moment. Besides, how absurd as it could sound considering the fact that he was on foreign territory with only a handful– _4_ –guards to defend him, she wasn't sure that he could be _dealt with_. _Gut instinct_. And little Noor _always_ trusted her instincts.

Naseem elbowed her in the ribs, discreetly enough to be considered as an accident with the poor distance behind the two of them, and the she-fanalis snapped out of her train of thoughts to stare at the imposing figure they would be guiding for the rest of the day. Finding it more difficult than ever, she plastered a polite smile on her lips, tilting her head slightly to the left to glance at his companions. So, those were members of Sindria's esteemed Eight Generals. The Imuchakk was ridiculously tall, Naseem could pass for an infant next to him, and the dragon-like individual was ridiculously green. _He even had real scales_. So the rumor was true, he was a real dragon and not just a weirdo who liked to disguise himself using dragon-skin. _Not that she knew_ _ **where**_ _dragon skin could be found_. The last one, the fanalis she had noticed almost immediately, glance at her briefly and as they made eye-contact, Noor felt her throat go dry and her heart flutter so briefly that she put it down to her imagination. Swiftly, little Noor returned her attention on the foreign king and fluttered her lashes with a demure smile.

"King Sinbad," she said slowly, voice lower-pitched than usual, "allow me to introduce myself appropriately. My name is Noor Peyrus, it is an _honor_ to properly make your acquaintance."

She dipped her head but didn't bow, she already had earlier on and it would appear submissive. Naseem glanced at her, eyes widening slightly but she stepped on his feet to get him to stop gaping. He immediately straightened, lips twitching with the urge to laugh she could tell, and dipped his head as well, muffling his snicker behind an absolutely suspicious laugh.

"Name's Naseem. Nice to meet'cha _great_ King."

She didn't even try to roll her eyes discreetly. Naseem gave her than ridiculously endearing boyish grin and little Noor, scoffed, focusing on the foreign king to prevent herself from smiling. She had probably failed considering the fact that the boy was still beaming beside her but frankly speaking, she didn't care. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't even be able to impersonate her absolutely polite lady. His carefreeness was soothing her frayed nerves. King Sinbad's golden eyes observed the two of them for a few seconds, before a lazy smile stretched his lips. Swiftly, he grasped her hand to kiss it and little Noor tried not to shudder at the sensation, willing her traitorous face not to heat up.

"Of course, lady Noor," he all but purred and little Noor felt the temperature around them skyrocket, "an _absolute pleasure_ to meet you."

Noor remained frozen, unable to advert her eyes from the two amber-pupiled man in front of her. Her left hand twitched as she finally realized her situation and despite the knowledge that a serious punch from her could hypothetically kill him, she clenched her fist, raised it, swung and _missed_. A mere nanosecond before her fist could make contact, King Sinbad was yanked backward and she punched empty air. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stared as the white-haired man dragged him away and started to berate him. He was lowering his voice despite his yelling but Noor had no problem whatsoever to hear him.

" _Sin! Didn't you hear the Emperor? She's a valuable adviser to the magi, stop that right now!_ "

" _I was only greeting her._ "

" _You were not! Stop that this instant!_ "

Well, he had earned his reputation after all.

"That could've kill him." Naseem remarked idly with a raised brow.

She huffed, more annoyed with herself than anything else. Mechanically, she dusted her tunic to keep her hands occupied. She felt like strangling someone already and monitor their honored guests didn't mean murder them. Little Noor could feel two eyes staring at her so hard that it felt like they were trying to make her burst into flames. Nervously, she peered at the perpetrator behind her sleeves and her breath itched when for the umpteenth time, she met the foreign fanalis's eyes. Her intestines churned in her stomach and she almost saw the blazing fire he was causing her skin to become.

"You pack quite the punch, lady." The Imuchakk hummed thoughtfully, watching her curiously. "Then again, it's not really surprising."

"I would've stop." She defended herself grouchily, even if everyone knew it was a lie. "I wasn't using that much strength." _That was a lie too_. "My apologies if my actions made you uncomfortable in any way. I am not used to be touched without my consent nor am I comfortable with it."

"There's no need to apologize." The dragon-like man cut in firmly, "our king overstepped the line." _Strangely, she could hear the unsaid 'again'_. "It is us that should apologize for making you uncomfortable."

 _Oh_ , a carefree man and his responsible advisors, she could see it. Little Noor dipped her head to accept his apology and exhaled breathlessly, relaxing again. For a man( _creature?_ ) with such a fierce appearance, he was strangely mild-mannered. His voice wasn't as husky as she had imagined it to be and despite his words, he was gazing at his king with unadulterated fondness. With the same, unquestionable loyalty she followed Muu with. At ease with his calming persona, she opened her mouth and shut it almost immediately. She visibly tensed up, too surprised to even try to hide it and ignored Naseem when he called her name. She didn't even realize that everyone was staring at her, too focused on the distant and familiar footsteps she was hearing. _Damn_. The person was closing in on them fast, their scent assaulting her nose. _Not now, not now, not now_!

" _So that's where you were, Noor dear_."

Next to her, Naseem cringed and made a face. Little Noor tried to smile, alas it appeared strained, and clenched her fists inside her sleeves. Slow, lethal, _Sharah Peyrus_ slowly walked toward them, smile sharp and eyes cold. Borderline rude, she gave a brief nod toward the foreign king and his escort and stopped in front of her. Noor was taller than her but she felt like a small, _small_ , unimportant and defenseless child, all her confidence dampened by the woman's presence. She had avoided the Peyrus Estate for the past two months – _she wasn't welcomed there anyway_ – and slipped away each time Sharah invited her to have tea or merely enquired about her health and life in general. At first, Noor had thought that Sharah was paying attention to her because it had been Himalia's last wishes. After a while, she had realized that the woman genuinely liked her and little Noor had felt embarrassed and intimidated by her affection. _She had run away_. And Naseem, whom Sharah genuinely appreciated too had stopped visiting her when Noor had left Reim. _She was pissed_. No, beyond pissed, _downright furious_.

"Naseem, Noor, it has been a _while_." Sharah greeted them in a sweet tone and the two of them shuddered. "You two seem to be well. I am _so_ delighted to see you; you don't visit me as often as you did before. I was worried."

"W-We don't have as much time as we did before, our apologies Sharah-sama." Naseem stuttered and flinched when the woman rounded on him, eyes flashing dangerously.

" _Oh_?" Her voice was low, _too low_ and her eyes seemed intent on reducing him to ashes. "I see. Lady Scheherazade is very demanding, isn't she? How inconsiderate of me, my apologies. That being said, _Noor_ , _Naseem_ …" She drawled, smile widening.

Naseem broke out in a cold sweat and little Noor stopped breathing when Sharah's smile finally disappeared, a neutral expression taking its place. _Neutral expression for anyone else, but they_ _ **knew**_ _her_. Sharah _never_ stopped smiling and if she did, it meant hell on earth. _War veterans had burst into tears in front of that expression_.

"… _come_ and _visit_ me, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sharah-sama." They answered all together, eyes dropping in shame.

Sharah's smile returned, like a budding flower finally blossoming. She gently patted their heads, offered a knowing smile to the foreigners observing the display and took off, walking away with a grace and self-confidence unrivaled. Sharah Peyrus was already past 70 and yet, she still acted as if she was 20 years younger. Not that it bothered anyone; she was still peachy and active despite her old age. She didn't leave the Peyrus Estate as much as before and wasn't as active in politics, but still a powerhouse. She was respected and the Emperor often called on her when the Council didn't agree on a particular subject. She had a permanent seat in said Council that she only used when needed. All in all, Sharah Peyrus was a frightening, insightful, cunning woman who, most likely because of her lack of children, loved to smother Naseem and her in love.

"Quite the woman, isn't she." The High King of the Seven Seas hummed pensively and even if she didn't voice it out, little Noor agreed wholeheartedly. Then he turned toward her, all smile. "Off then, shall we go? I'll gladly accept you to lead me _wherever_ you wish, _lady Noor_."

" _Sin!_ "

* * *

 **Primal instincts**

* * *

"Hello."

"…hello."

"…"

"…"

"Your name is Masrur, isn't it?"

"…"

"…"

"…yes."

"Nice to meet you, Masrur."

"…"

"…"

"…yes."

They lapsed into silence again. Little Noor's lips twitched upward in amusement as she glanced at the taller albeit younger fanalis who was staring at the bantering group disinterestedly. She wasn't offended by his silence. He didn't seem to mind her unabashedly staring at him and she was curious about him. _What was his life like in Sindria? Did he enjoy living there? Was he well-treated?_ Her opinion of him was biased since he was a fanalis but little Noor genuinely liked him. He was aloof and apathetic but not in an insulting way, it was just his way of life. He wasn't neither disrespectful nor dismissive, just very quiet. She liked his honesty and his borderline rude sincerity too. He could easily pass for rude but there were no ill-intents in his behavior. He just… _was_.

"Is king Sinbad treating you well?"

His eyes shifted from the display a few feet away to her face. Little Noor fidgeted awkwardly as he scrutinized her, patting her clothes self-consciously. She had met people with intense eyes before, but Masrur's were different from everything she had ever seen. She couldn't explain it but the way he was staring at her was making her uncomfortable, she was igniting under his stare, her skin was burning and she felt the need to moisten her lips, freezing when the fanalis's eyes followed the gesture and settled on her lips. It was just for half a second but when she dared to eye his face again, he had resumed his staring of the pitiful scene Naseem, the King of Sindria and his three Generals were offering.

"Yes."

The silence stretched, neither of them willing to break it as they were not talkative individuals in the first place. Eventually, Noor moved closer to him, peering at the smooth and flawless skin of his face. The only scar-less fanalis she knew where Muu and Myron and it was because they were born safely in Reim. Even Noor herself had an ugly cicatrix on her forehead, fortunately high enough for it to be hidden by her hair. Masrur's face however was perfect. Fanalis were supposed to be attractive in their wild and battle-like disposition, the only exceptions were supposed to be the well-bread and well-educated Muu and Myron. Yet, even if she could see in his eyes that he was far from having lived a shelter life, Masrur owned a gracious handsomeness that she had not seen before.

Shameless, she cupped his face with both hands, ignoring his inquisitive eyes and gently forced his head forward. _No bruises, no cuts, no scratches_. There was only one answer: Masrur was strong enough to come out of a fight unscathed. He was tall, even for a fanalis and the only taller person that she had met was Lo'lo and muscular enough to give _Muu Alexius_ of all people, a run for his money and Muu was no small fry. There was just something… _pleasant_ about him but she couldn't tell what.

"You have to stop that." She told him suddenly

Her left hand left his cheek to run through his hair and the fanalis grunted at the contact, his hot breath fanning down on her face. It was different from touching the other members of the fanalis Corps. Masrur was younger so she assumed that she'd see him as a younger brother figure or something like she did with the others, but it wasn't different. He was just younger than her, she wasn't even considering his youth… (not that 18 was _that_ young) as disturbing as it could sound, she only saw him as a man. Not as a younger, fellow fanalis but as a _man_.

"…what?"

"Making me want to force you to stay here."

Masrur didn't smile but a flicker of mirth danced in his eyes. Tension spiked, electrifying the air and little Noor's hand twitched in his hair as she realized her actions. Was she… _was she flirting with him_? Her hand twitched again as she realized that the reason she couldn't help but see him as a _man_ was because feeling _attraction_. It had never happened to her before but now that she thought about it, she recognized the signs, the self-consciousness and the slight tension between them. Intently, she bored into his eyes, quivering pleasantly as she realized that she had his undivided attention. _It was mutual_ , she wasn't the only one feeling this strange attraction. Afraid of her desire to touch him _more_ , she slowly released him, pretending to ignore the way his eyes flickered toward her hands in a silent question. It was dangerous, _too dangerous_. She hadn't had a mother to approach the subject and as much as she liked and trusted Muu, she wasn't comfortable enough to try and talk to him about human's… _intimacy_.

Were fanalis more like humans? Or animals? It was strange to think about that now when she had always considered fanalis as more animals that humans but they had a human body. Was… _intimacy_ more akin to _mating_ or _love-making_? She had never felt attraction before and it was uncomfortable as much as it was pleasant. Her body was _burning_ , it waited to be touched and the simple fact of Masrur eyeing her with a growing intensity was making her legs feel weak. _What was that_? Even if she was unfamiliar with it, it wasn't fathomable to feel it to that extent. It… it felt like she was ready to lie down and… _Solomon, what was she even thinking about_?!

"Stop that." She murmured haltingly, all thoughts about teasing him vanished.

"I can't."

His voice was hoarser that she remembered. His eyes settled on her lips again and Noor's breath hitched, it _burnt, burnt, burnt, burnt, burnt, burnt_ … **that was enough**. She glanced at their companions, still engrossed in their stupid debate, grabbed his wrist–probably more forcefully that she should have but he was probably stronger than her anyway, so it was okay–and dragged him after her, out of sight, away from prying eyes. They didn't go too far as he yanked her arms and they stumbled into a deserted alley. Face to face, they only stared each other out, unmoving.

She cupped his face once more, slowly, skimming over his skin to engrave the sensation in her mind. His cheeks, his ears, his forehead, his nose, his lips, his chin, his neck, his collarbone, his neck once more and his lips. _Why had she been out next to Masrur, already…_? _Wasn't she supposed to monitor someone…_? She laced her fingers behind his neck, drawing him closer. _That was no good, she had to stop, this attraction thingy or whatever had to stop, damn were they animals or_ – his right arm wrapped around her waist tightly enough that she was sure it would bruise but it only sparked her eagerness more. _Animals were the ones unable to control themselves but they were not, they were_ – they stared each other out once more, everything around them seeming to be at a standstill. _Mating_ , little Noor randomly decided, drinking in every inch of his face, _primitive and animalistic in every sense of the word_.

 _Mating, they did_.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know I said I'd try to finish it for the 15th but better late than never. Besides, I hesitated a long time before deciding to post it. I re-wrote it many times but it was always the same outcome, so... yeah. Don't start insulting me please. I knew this would happen right from the start, Muu Alexius is great but he's a dumbass and Noor's a damn prude and it's just wrong. I mean, well, did'ya guys think they would have some kind of innocent love or something? One is obsessed with a 200 years old grandma and the other is a self-sacrificial almost asexual psycho.

I upgrated the rating, I was being a dumbass and thought that I could write a nice story with unicorns and rainbows, right. Twisted relationships are the best you know? And I mean, that's the world of magi, who, beside Kougyoku Ren who's a dumbass and live in good outdated Kou of course (I still like her to some extent though, she's got potential as a character) and Morgiana who's ABSOLUTELY NOT a dumbass, just pretty innocent, is a real virgin among women? They all have guilty faces. I've been thinking about it for a long time, their personnality click and besides, it's physical attraction that's been emphasized in this chapter.

1) moronic Noor has never been attracted to anyone in 21 years of life (that's pretty sad, really)

\+ 2) she's a fanalis and I guess their DNA is just weird

\+ 3) Masrur, I mean M-A-S-R-U-R, Sindria's fucking Masrur is the catch

= Noor becomes a guilty face too. And Masrur's an eighteen hormonal (okay that's pushing it) not quite adult and he's attracted too, that's some explosive cocktail in my mind.

Sinbad... is a bastard. I mean, I really do love the character design but I can't just like him. And I've read so much stories where he's approachable and nice and sociable but there's just something about him that sends shivers down Noor's spines because he's so charismatic that's it's overwhelming, crushing, terrifying. It's not a bad terrifying, it's the good, too much to bear terrifying. Do I even make sense?

Are you guys disappointed with the Noor-Muu outcome? Tehe, it was just a bait to prepare this chapter. He's not in that chapter but he'll come back eventually. When he stops worshiping 200 years old grandmothers. You saw the chapter's title is 'Body and Mind', right? That's because Noor grows in both aspects. On the one hand, her Djinn as well as coming to term with where her loyalty lies, surprisingly not in Reim but in _Muu_ and on the other hand... well, guilty face. I mean, she's 21! In magi, 12 years old girl are already married and everything, she's pretty lax. Moreover, she's in Reim of all country which is a rather... free country? I'd say 'libertin' in French but I don't mean 'depraved', rather 'of free morals and customs'. Does 'libertine' sound wrong in English? (in this context I mean) insulting?

Riiiight.

 **[1]** I'm not going to bother and name every single members of the fanalis Corps. The only known are Muu, Myron, Lo'lo, Razol and Yaqut and it'll stay that way. These two have a cameo in chapter 8 though.

 **[2]** and **[3]** I don't make up the scents, I don't allow myself so much liberty. I read that it's what Morgiana said about the two of them so, so be it.

I read somewhere that Masrur will not believe Morgiana when she tells him that there's an army of fanalis in Reim. That's still true. Has Masrur seen any fanalis in Reim beside Noor? Has the fanalis Corps even been mentioned? _Sinbad doesn't even know_ , Masrur wouldn't either. Don't ask me why Hinahoho and Drakon, it's just that they were the easiest to try and depict. Appart for bickering, we don't see much of Sharkkan and Yamuraiha and Spartos and Pisti are weirdos. These two are not so troublesome and can be quiet enough to blend in the background. Yes, Sinbad could've come with only Jafar and Masrur like he did in Balbadd. No, Reim is not as defensless and pathetic as Balbadd when the desert-country loses its king. Yes, it is way more dangerous and threatening. Yes, he has to appear harmless but he still has to be able to defend himself. He conquered Seven Dungeons and stuff I know, but he's in the strongest, economical and technological country in the world. Yes, protection is needed.

Yes, I might be there by the 15th of December, I'm pretty fired up. Yes, I love you all thank you for the reviews and reading my story and being a reader and please criticize me some more, I don't feel like my penmanship is improving and I find it quite frustrating. No, I will not be offended as long as it is not meant to be hurtful. Yes, I do love critics and I am a weirdo and a dumbass.

Yes, I will see you next month.

And yes, I have an extra that you will enjoy.

* * *

 **Interlude: How to achieve companionship**

* * *

"No matter how much I see it, it always strikes me as a masterpiece of architecture."

Even if she disapproved his flirtatious, lazy and frivolous nature, little Noor could at least concede him that. The colosseum was a masterwork of art, its architecture breathtaking and unrivaled on the Seven Seas. Its architect had unfortunately kicked the bucket right after the construction had ended, said construction having apparently drained his health. The sole time Noor had heard of him from Scheherazade, the magi's eyes had glazed over, as she had warmly recounted that the colosseum's construction dated from over 200 years. The only relevant thing Noor had managed to hear, was that he had died in Muu and Myron's ancestor's arms, content with his achievement. 200 years later, the sheer beauty of the construction was still stealing both citizens and outsiders' breaths away.

"Isn't it." Naseem agreed softly, staring at the magnificent edifice.

3 years in the past, Noor would have added that it was a shame that blood had to be spilled here. But she wasn't quite that caring girl anymore. If Noor had learnt a thing or two over the course of the years, it was that even if softness was necessary, ruthlessness ruled this world. Reim Empire had not achieved its advanced state by being soft and trying to solve everything with peace treaties. In this world, softness could and often was interpreted as weakness. And she couldn't, wouldn't ever allow herself to be weak. Reim was Reim because they had slavery, because they considered that there was a hierarchy between human beings and some were better than others. It was hypocritical to act that way when their fanalis Corps was composed of former slaves and they still got angry whenever fanalis were belittled and treated like animals; but the world wasn't fair. _Life wasn't fair_. Little Noor consoled herself with the fact that unlike other countries, slavery in Reim was _soft_ and they actually had a way to _out_ it, through the colosseum. Even if they didn't, they were generally well-treated and well-educated. Slavery was wrong but frankly speaking, Noor _couldn't care less_.

"Do you want a round?" Naseem asked her, glancing at the King of Sindria when a brief, weird expression crossed his face.

"I might drop by later, when the Yambala gladiators are up for a fight." Little Noor considered seriously, an unconscious smile stretching her lips at the prospect of a good fight. "Fighting them is amusing."

"Right," Naseem snorted, "you are definitely no woman, for sure. You have to be a fanalis to enjoy such life-threatening fights."

Noor's smile widened and turned feral. She didn't move, only stared at him with wide, bright, amused eyes. Yet, Naseem shuddered and glanced at Sinbad who had tensed up. It was far from killing intent but Naseem would've preferred to be pressurized by that. It felt like standing between the two clawed paws of a gigantic, overwhelming, overbearing predator. It felt like being grazed by razor-sharp fangs. It felt like becoming the prey of a very dangerous, very ferocious, very lethal beast of prey.

"You are right, I am no woman." Noor drawled huskily and Naseem shivered. "Because I am behaving in a civilized way does not mean you should forget, Naseem. _I am most certainly no woman_. And my most primal instincts are _to fight_."

"Aren't you pretty open about that for an untamed animal." Naseem bit back snappily ( _she wouldn't hurt him; she would never hurt him… wouldn't she?_ )

"I wonder about that. _Oh_ , this way is the Amphitheater."

"Drama queen." Naseem mumbled under his breath, adverting his eyes.

"Brat." She shot back aloud, lips twitching upward when he shot her an annoyed half-hearted glare.

Naseem tried to scowl to hide the amused smile on his face, but he knew he would fail anyway. To think that a few years in the past, they were constantly at each other throats, him nagging her because he was bored and seeing her perfection composure break was the best and her just unable to stand his presence. They had come a long way.

"The two of you seem to get along well." Jafar, Sinbad's advisor, remarked fondly.

"We get along **the best**." Naseem corrected with a large smile.

He caught Noor's eyes as he made that statement and distractedly wondered if she would correct him. She only tilted her head slightly to give her assent, lips twitching upwards. Even unbeknownst to her, Naseem had sworn a long time ago that he'd be her most faithful ally.


	12. Limbo

**Guest-** Yup, I don't think it's that much a surprise since I more or less hinted that it plays on dreams and consciousness. Yup, those are some mondain interactions, I find them boring as hell but Naseem and Noor have to be close anyway so I got no choice. Well, I accept that Sinbad is THE character, he's super badass, super strong, super god-like and everything BUT there are two things Sinbad can never be. He cannot be a magi, controls the flux of destiny or whatever and he's probably liked by ruhks but not-never at the same scale than a magi. He also can never compare to a fanalis brute strength wise; he's got no overdevelopped senses and no super strength. Masrur beat Sinbad already so I think he's aware of the limits between himself and the fanalis, therefore explaining his reaction. Drama? Definitely! Not the kind of drama I enjoy but still drama and still entertaining I guess. Is that book relevant to the plot? I wouldn't bother with it if it wasn't. It has a major importance in the plot, yes, and as explained before, it's just a book yes, but it is unclear whether this book features caracters that have existed and events that have occured or not. Nope, it's okay, the book's name is **Annal of Earth**! I'm still writing so please, don't remove me from your browsers! Thanks for following Lionheart!

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter XII: Limbo

* * *

 **Knowledge**

* * *

It took Muu Alexius a whole two months before realizing that something was amiss with Noor. He had picked up subtle shifts in her behavior but dismissed them because it was Noor, an individual able to close off completely and accumulate levels of frustration even Muu himself could not. _Noor was strong_. It seemed almost silly to make that statement because of course she would be, she was a fanalis after all, Muu Alexius had never met any weak fanalis yet. Still, she had nerves of steel and a poker face that he couldn't even begin to try and pick apart.

Sometimes, Muu wondered if he _knew_ her. He knew the Noor who laughed at him, stared at him with judgmental eyes and followed his directives without even a twitch, but there was still so much he didn't know about her. There was this gap of 6 years that had transformed the emotional, meek and uncertain child in a ruthless, cold-hearted and standoffish woman. It was ironic, hypocritical, how he could call her standoffish when she was the most honest and open around them. _Around him_.

The Noor that he saw during war councils and banquets was vastly different from the one he saw every day at the estate. Her eyes were cold and calculating and even though her smiles were polite, there was this borderline haughtiness that he had seen numerous times in her predecessor's demeanor. This Noor was firm, severe, strict and wasn't afraid of voicing her disagreement, talking down war veterans and cutting ambitious noblemen down to size. This Noor bathed in the world of politics, held her own among contemptuous men and remained unfazed when faced with demeaning comments on her heritage as a fanalis. This Noor was a monster of politics, who wouldn't think twice before chewing someone up and spit them out if she spotted even a hint of weakness. Muu Alexius did not know this Noor and sometimes, she scared him.

The Noor Peyrus he knew was poised, impatient and caring. She chewed older fanalis out like she'd do with children that didn't behave and jeered when they came back home with guilty faces because they had broken something in town. _They always came back with guilty faces when they broke something no matter how much they tried to hide it_. She screamed, laughed and lost her temper to her heart content, not minding who saw her and how they saw her if it happened within the private door of their estate. This Noor was the closest thing that remained of the little girl she had been, following him around because her instincts dictated her to or simply because he was the closest thing she had to family at that time, he did not know. Sometimes, Muu regretted letting her behind, all alone in an almost hostile world as her mentors died.

Sometimes, Muu regretted ever leaving Reim. Even if he had done so to please Scheherazade and was happy to have achieved his task, he thought about Myron, not yet 10, that he had left behind. Their mother had died young and Muu had never met their father who had died even earlier. He had left her all alone in Reim, happy to succeed in whatever Scheherazade had planned for him, not thinking twice as he left without turning back. To her credit, Myron hadn't shed any tears that day, face scrunched up painfully as she struggled not to burst into tears. If someone had told him that the two little girls who despised each other so much as children would grow up becoming inseparable, he would've called bullshit on him. Yet, here were they, almost 10 years later, sharing long and meaningful gazes that only the two of them could understand.

It was thanks to this deep connection that Muu finally pinpointed the source of the problem. Well, he didn't connect the dots per se, but he finally realized that something was off. Myron and Razol were huddled in the corner of a corridor, whispering furiously– _well_ , what they thought whispering was anyway. Even if he prided himself with his overdeveloped senses that sometimes rivaled Lo'lo's, Muu would be lying if he ever said that he managed to hear them from the other side of the corridor because of them. Razol, crouched next to his sister, was whisper- _shouting_ and Myron was trying to hush her with low screams. Not that they were known for their discretion but still, sometimes Muu felt a bit desperate with how the members of the fanalis Corps behaved.

" _I don't care!_ " Razol was hissing, voice raising slightly as she leaned forward threateningly. "Sis' has been weird recently! Last time, she disappeared and we didn't see her for a year! If ye know somethin' Myron, _tell me_!"

" _I've already told you that_ _ **I don't know**_ _!_ " Myron shot back hotly, teeth bared in warning as the hostility Razol was displaying made her edgy.

Razol's face scrunched up angrily and she snarled as her annoyance skyrocketed. Curious and a bit worried as Muu couldn't understand what was irritating them so much, he made his way toward them and immediately noticed the way they shifted to try and temper their annoyance. They were no Noor though, and he had no trouble seeing past the not really convincing front they put up. A vein was still throbbing angrily in Razol's throat and her lips were pressed too tightly. Contrariwise to the unadulterated anger Razol was feeling, Myron oozed nervousness and wouldn't meet his eyes, an obvious sign of something she believed herself guilty over.

"What is it?" He asked simply, cutting to the chase. Muu was a kind-hearted and patient leader but when the fanalis Corps was involved, when he suspected any problem within the family he had created, he became the Alpha all of them followed.

"Noor is acting strange." Razol answered immediately, wide eyes blinking up at him.

Muu glanced at his sister who fiddled with the hem of her tunic but said nothing, eyes refusing to meet his. Taken aback by his sister's reluctance to talk to him–no matter the subject, Myron had never hesitated to come to him; besides, _she couldn't lie to save her life_ –he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, staring. Myron squirmed under the scrutiny, pressurized by both his expectant stare and Razol's accusing eyes. She didn't even resist for half a minute before yielding, sighing loudly and looking up at him with doe-eyes.

"I know nothing, I swear I do not. It's just… I, ah– Naseem came a few days ago, to ask about Noor too. He asked if she told me anything and then he questioned me about the foreign King or whatever. He said– em, he thinks, ah– that there is something between her and the damn king."

Muu felt both his eyebrows shoot up at the statement and Razol made a face that seemed to say ' _really? You actually believe that crap, really?_ ''. Myron looked mortally affronted that they doubted her claims and Muu immediately patted her head to calm her down. He whispered a thank you and left without further ado, pondering what he had just heard. It was the most absurd thing he had ever heard and it was rich, coming from a man whose daily life consisted of running around Remano to apologize to various people for the behavior of the fanalis under his control. _Still_ … _had she even ever be with a man_? Muu had no shame in saying that he had never had any relationship, whatever the type, with a woman before, as he was too busy to serve lady Scheherazade to indulge himself in unimportant pleasures. Besides, just remaining around Scheherazade and serving her was entirely sufficient.

He knew nothing of Noor's love life, if she even had one. The only male Muu had ever seen her willingly associate herself with was Naseem but the kid was mental, he didn't count. Except Naseem, Lo'lo didn't count because even if there were instances with fanalis mating (Lo'lo and almost the entirety of the fanalis Corps were living proof after all), it just felt _wrong_ to do so with each other. Had Noor ever been courted by a man before? She was already 21, she had to have least have a first experience or something. The thought caused him to freeze in his steps. Did that mean that _Myron_ – _he did not want to know_. As much as Muu Alexius loved his sister and wished to protect her, there were things she could not be protected from and that she would need to experiment herself. Of course, it did not mean that _**he wouldn't break every bone in the body of whoever ever made his sweet little sister cry**_.

Getting back to the topic at hand, it seemed absurd but not impossible that Noor would let herself be seduced by the foreign king. He only had heard rumors but if those rumors were representative of the reality, Muu feared what it could imply. If Sinbad, the High Killer of the Seven Seas, was skilled enough to seduce Noor of all people, then he was even stronger than the Alexius had given him credit for. Sinbad was the man who had conquered seven dungeons so his fighting skills were undeniable but to think he would be capable of manipulating Noor of all people…

Muu Alexius realized once more with a growing frustration that he knew Noor even less than he thought he did. _When was the last time he had actually stopped to have a long chat with her? What type of men did she like? Did she even like men in the first place? What did she even do during her free time? How had she met Naseem? How had the two of them become such good friends? How come she never talked about her childhood when everyone among the fanalis Corps had thoroughly explained to Muu what kind of hell they had lived before arriving in Reim?_ _What was even her life like, before Reim? How were her parents? How come she never talked about them? How had she managed to befriend the youngest son of the emperor Koutoku to the point that he sent her a letter monthly?_ There were so many things he did not know about Noor because he had taken that knowledge for granted, because he had never bothered to care about her as she always sounded _fine_.

When he saw her that evening, Muu asked her if everything was fine and she answered positively with a demure smile. She didn't– wouldn't talk to him. _Muu Alexius knew nothing about Noor Peyrus_.

* * *

 **Constraint**

* * *

"Why in Solomon's name are ya walking like that?"

Little Noor froze mid-step, almost tripping in the process. Yaqut, five meters across from her, eyes furrowed with puzzlement and arms folded, was staring straight at her with what he probably thought an unreadable expression. He was improving though, because compared to his pathetic first attempts, his face didn't give anything away anymore. Still, little Noor had been taught how to read someone else's body language since she was 7 and there were still subtle shifts in his demeanor.

He remained better than Myron who couldn't lie to save her life, though. It wasn't even a brutal honesty like Lo'lo who just didn't see any point in lying since he was the most straightforward and literal-minded person she had ever met, she was just _that_ bad at telling lies. That was the reason why both were often pushed aside when discretion was needed. There were no better candidates for operations that required messing everything up though, or in other words, _fighting_.

"Whatever are you talking about?" She shot back almost defensively, wincing inwardly when she realized the curtness of her answer.

"If ya want ta sneak in, don't use the main door." He drawled nonchalantly, eyeing her attire critically. She cringed when he scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes. "Ya smelling weird."

 _Of course_. His sense of smell was keener that hers; because she couldn't pick up the foreign smell didn't mean he wouldn't. She often forgot the almost overwhelming gap between pure-blood and half-blood fanalis. No one in the Estate minded but Myron and she shared the same insecurities. To begin with, Noor had never won any single spar against Razol. It wasn't that she did bad, she managed to land hits and their fights never ended with Razol unscathed but she tired quicker when the other fanalis still had energy to spare. Lo'lo wiping the floor with her wasn't that surprising because, _well_ , Lo'lo was probably the strongest fanalis of the fanalis Corps but Razol… well, Noor had nothing against the girl of course but the fact that she was both younger and tinier was disheartening. Really.

"That's your imagination. Is everyone still sleeping?"

If he picked up on her poor attempt at misdirection, he said nothing. "The advisor brat dropped by half a' hour ago, looking for ya. Everyone's minding their own business."

That was as much of a clear answer she would ever get. Not that anyone but Razol knew why, Yaqut was almost always so unnecessarily cryptic. A defensive mechanism she and Muu had speculated. It was nowhere near infuriating enough as his first months in Reim but still annoying. Yaqut wasn't a troublesome individual, per se. Not at first sight anyway. He seemed too mild and unconcerned for that. Yet, his sharp tongue would be the death of him one day. He just wouldn't keep his mouth shut. He could create as much problem as Razol and Myron just opening that damn mouth of him. His languid behavior didn't help as most people misunderstood him and thought he was mocking them. All in all, he was just as troublesome as anyone else in the fanalis Corps.

"Then why are you camping in front of the door?"

"Waiting for ya, obviously."

She rolled her eyes, stifling an exasperated sigh. Trust Yaqut to just beat around the bush till you nailed the problem yourself.

"The magi lady came ta visit 2 hours ago, Muu-san's waiting for ya since then. The ol' lady left already but seems like he still wanna talk ta ya 'bout something."

She nodded in ascent, pursing her lips in thoughtfulness as she entered the estate, Yaqut on her heels. Muu had been strangely… _interested_ for lack of better words, these past weeks. The king of Sindria had left a month ago but both Muu and Naseem kept on questioning her about him. Truthfully, it was becoming annoying as her interactions with said king had been ridiculously limited, she could count the handful of time she had directly spoken to him on her fingers.

Sinbad was a fascinating character for sure but she had been too taken by the fanalis accompanying him to focus on him. Their _physical interaction_ aside, she had discovered a sensitive but downright awkward personality that had put her on edge. She was older than him and when he seemed frighteningly mature for his age, and age meant nothing here in Reim, there was just something precious around him that she feared. He was exactly like her. Submissive and with a self-denial perhaps even stronger than hers. He was just a truly kind-hearted individual, valuing his life as something extremely precious since it was important in the eyes of his king.

He hadn't touched her during the rest of their stay, sensing her uneasiness and they had parted with a single nod and warm eyes on his part, tiny waves and a small smile on her part. Nothing more, nothing less. No words about what had happened were exchanged and no one would ever know what had transpired. She couldn't quite erase the fleeting feeling of his touch brushing her skin but she had quickly learned to ignore it. It was strange, as she couldn't forget this exhilarating feeling of attraction but Noor was an adult, she could bury these events in the back of her mind and forget them. She was not a child anymore, she was a woman– she had been _made_ a woman. Until their next meeting, she would sort out these feelings and come to terms with the growing unease in her stomach.

"Are ya… are ya the one reeking fish like that?" Yaqut mumbled behind her and she couldn't see his face but considering his tone, he had probably scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"I was helping out in the market." She answered evenly, even though she was sure she had managed to get rid of the odor before arriving. "I will visit the Bathhouses shortly afterwards." She added in an afterthought as she decided that walking around smelling like fish wasn't very pleasant.

"Ya stink."

"Thank you."

They fell in a comfortable silence, Noor discreetly sniffing at her clothes and Yaqut observing her as she seemed to behave like she always did, wondering what the hell were Razol and Myron worrying about. Even Lo'lo hadn't notice anything and that was saying something, as the man was like a Noor-detector, picking up every shift in her mood. Yaqut knew that the both of them got along well and could easily pass for real siblings but sometimes, the sheer amount of concern they held for one another seemed ridiculous. The bond they shared was slightly different from the one they shared with all the members of the fanalis Corps. Yaqut could only speculate but privately, he thought that it was because Noor and Lo'lo knew things about each other that no one else–not even Muu–knew. At first, he had wondered if it was love. He had dismissed the idea very quickly the more he had observed them. Sometimes, it was hard to know who Noor Peyrus was.

"Solomon, what do you think you are doing?" Noor suddenly asked, breath catching in her throat.

For a few seconds, Yaqut thought she was speaking to him until he stopped behind her, staring at Lo'lo who seemed to have… _uprooted_ a whole quarter of the trees around the property. He was standing there, an uprooted tree in his arms, looking like a deer caught in headlights. In retrospect, if he hadn't been too stunned to say anything, Yaqut would've probably laughed his head off because the sight of Lo'lo looking completely terrified, like a child caught in the middle of something silly, was absolutely priceless. As it was, the three of them only stared each other out, both Noor and Yaqut gawking at Lo'lo and Lo'lo goggling at them. They remained frozen for a few seconds, unsure of what to do and Noor was the first to break the silence, sighing loudly and burying her head in her hands with a whimper, as if to convince herself that the sight was only a bad dream.

"Whatever." She mumbled behind her hands, "whatever I don't care, I saw nothing. Just… just be on your way or something I don't care. I saw nothing, I am so out of this."

Yaqut chuckled under his breath, observing Lo'lo as he stared for a few seconds then resumed his task of… _replanting the trees he had uprooted_? Yaqut sweatdropped at the sight, wondering what crazy idea could have encouraged him to accomplish… _whatever he was doing_.

"Weirdos, this place is full of weirdos." Noor grumbled, thrusting her hands forward with a gesture of exasperation.

Yet, Yaqut could hear the fondness in her voice and the smile that was probably trying to stretch her lips as she forced herself not to laugh in front of the peculiar display Lo'lo offered. Yaqut, himself, felt his stomach starting to hurt as he kept on laughing quietly to himself. Huffing an ultimate time, Noor stalked off, shaking her head to try and erase the previous minutes from her mind. Yaqut snorted as he followed her, his expression unknowingly softening as her present simply made him at ease. It was ridiculous how the knowledge that she felt such at ease around them was making him disgustingly giddy. Her hold on them was totally different from Muu's yet no less dangerous.

Like Muu had instructed him, Yaqut led her through the mansion. Unlike many others– _Myron_ cough _Myron_ –he could taunt and jibe Noor without her batting an eyelash, quite the contrary. She probably was the person he felt the most comfortable around–after Razol of course–because firstly, they were roughly the same age and secondly, her tongue was as sharp as his behind her façade. As a fanalis, Yaqut liked violence, he shed blood for breakfast and bathed in it. Still, it didn't mean that he was comfortable dealing with everything with his fists like some people– _Myron_ cough _Myron_.

"Muu-san." Noor mumbled in greeting as they entered the sitting room.

Muu's back was facing her so he could never hope to catch it but Yaqut was observing her closely. He saw it all, the way her face fell as she pronounced his name and the slight shift of her shoulders– _guilt, was it?_ She tensed up for a brief second and then forced herself to relax, evening out her expression. She glanced at him and tilted her head sideway with a sheepish grin that asked– _urged_ him to keep quiet on what he had just seen. Yaqut said nothing, didn't react in any way for a few seconds and then he nodded slowly to give his ascent. Their silent exchanged didn't last more than two seconds and by the time they returned their attention to the Alexius, he was barely turning in his seat to acknowledge them. Yaqut leaned against the wall as Noor took a seat across from Muu.

"Good afternoon, Noor." Muu greeted her back, eyes a bit too piercing as he stared at Noor. "It seems like you've had…" Yaqut had to praise Muu as he didn't even twitch when Solomon, _she stank_! "…a busy day."

Noor rolled her eyes.

"Please, make it quick since I pong so much that you can't even choke back your tears." _True, Muu's eyes were glistening with tears_. _That was their leader, not even blinking when Yaqut had felt like dying three times during the short way from the main door to this room._

"I'll cut to the chase then." Muu's mildly amused expression closed off and he stared at Noor with such intensity suddenly that even Yaqut squirmed. "There's a problem. The two opposite factions moved and–"

" _Lady Noor!_ " An ear-splitting voice shrieked and the three fanalis cringed at the volume.

Half a second later, a blond woman burst in the room, hair messy and eyes wild. She was huffing and puffing and her expression was a mix of panic and terror. She burst into tears as soon as she fixed her eyes on the Peyrus girl and the three fanalis remained frozen for a few seconds, taken aback by the shocking display. Then, Noor jumped on her feet and closed the distance between them, kneeling between the distressed woman who was blabbering incoherently. Gently, the fanalis patted her cheek to force to look at her in the eyes and softly ordered her to calm down. It took a whole minute for the woman to be able to make correct sentences.

"S-Sharah-sama…" She sobbed, burying her face in her hands and Yaqut saw Noor freeze, "…she's… p-poison in her tea, s-she…"

The woman broke down once more but Noor didn't even try to comfort her. Paler than Yaqut had ever seen, she sprung to her feet, turned on her heels and took off without a look behind her. Yaqut and Muu exchanged an astounded look, not knowing how to react. Then, Muu dismissed Yaqut with a slight shake of his head as he kneeled beside the crying woman– _Yana, wasn't she? Noor's maid_. Yaqut risked a glance behind him as he exited the room and raised an eyebrow at the guilt-stricken face the woman was making behind her sleeves. _Weird_. He hoped Noor was okay.

Said Noor had never reached the Peyrus Estate so quickly, didn't even know her half-breed heritage enabled her to reach such a speed. She almost collided with Naseem at the front door–fortunately they didn't collide, she would've undoubtedly killed him at such a speed–and steadied him with a firm hand as he tripped because of her sudden arrival. They didn't even need to exchange words as a single glance confirmed that they had rushed here for the same reason. She made her way through the mansion, Naseem almost running behind her as she power-walked through the long corridors and roughly pushed people out of her way, ignoring the pained cries and insults.

A hand reached toward her and she abruptly stopped, brusquely turning toward the man who had tried to stop her. His face wasn't familiar but it was probably because of her clouded mind. Her anger flared when he scowled at her disapprovingly, judgmental eyes taking in the red hair and red eyes before an ugly sneer made its way on his face. She barely made out the words ' _lowlife_ ' and ' _unworthy_ ' as her whirling mind was too unfocused to properly concentrate on the discussion and she snarled, baring her teeth in anger. The man backed off a bit, aware of the danger fanalis posed but not backing down. At this point, Noor's pent up frustration was ready to blow and she wasn't in the right state of mind to affirm that she wouldn't kill that annoying _bug_ in a fit of rage.

"Noor!" Naseem called out behind her, voice pressing.

She ignored him, feeling a vein throb in her throat, hands twitching toward her metal vessel. She was ready to kill him – _no_ , _destroy_ him, worm her way through his mind and unearth his deepest, darkest fears to turn them against him and watch him _fall in despair_ , cry in agony as his spirit would crumble and he would _beg_ , beg her to free her but she wouldn't–

" _Noor!_ " Naseem called again, panic coloring his tone.

Noor whirled around to order him to _shut the hell up_ but froze as she took the scene behind her. Twenty individuals were standing in the surprisingly suddenly deserted corridor, dressed in black, faces hidden. One of them was standing right behind Naseem, left arm loosely wrapped around his neck and sword held tightly against his throat. Noor clenched her fists, eyes darting between the strange individuals, _how hadn't she been able to hear or smell them?_ And Naseem's panicked face. Granted she hadn't been concentrated on her surroundings but she was a _fanalis_ , it wasn't like she could switch her senses off or something, they were always active and alert! Nervous, she took a step backward and froze when the man behind Naseem pressed the sword more tightly against her throat.

"Hands up, do not do anything you would regret, lady Noor." One of the people in black ordered coolly, voice muffled by their mask.

Not willing to risk Naseem's safety, she raised her hands in the air and closed her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat when familiar weights encircled her wrists and she opened her eyes to stare at her now _enchained_ _hands_ with horrified eyes. Something snapped inside her at the prospect of being chained down once more and she made a move to slam the offending metal against the floor but was yanked backward and crashed on her back. An eerie _click_ rang out as chained closed around her ankles and she opened her mouth to let out a terrified scream but something slammed into her chest, letting her out of breath. Tears gathered in her eyes, _no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!_ and she barely made out the sound of Naseem worriedly calling out her name before passing out.

* * *

 **Leash**

* * *

It was one thing to keep an enraged animal in captivity; it was another to try and keep a ferocious and bloodthirsty fanalis in check. It took four doses of whatever drug they owned to knock her out and even so, her organism purged the toxin in three hours and a half when it was supposed to keep her out for twelve hours. Naseem out of her direct visual sight, nothing seemed to be able to calm down the furious fanalis. She broke her chains twenty times and managed to make a gaping hole in her cell wall before physical means were finally used to subdue her.

It seemed like the body never quite forgot what it had went through. The torture seemed like a distant thing, a hollow call from an obscure past; the pain was there but it felt disconnected from her body and after two hours of uninterrupted screaming, she stopped making any noise and contented herself in the eerie silence. She had woken up without her metal vessel and she felt somewhat naked without it. She had no idea how much time had gone by since she had been thrown in here, her body felt numb and she had no idea how to difference day and light.

Noor Peyrus knew she was strong. Even strength had its limit though and Noor, like any other fanalis, had a blatant weakness: _she feared enslavement more than anything else in the world_. Her spirit crumbled after the third day and she began sobbing and begging to be let out. She was left to starve and die of thirst and the solitude more than the absence of food and water was pressing down on her. The fanalis knew that all of this was mental conditioning, that whoever had brought her here was trying to break down her spirit to obtain whatever they wanted from her and sadly, it was working.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door of the dark hole she had been confined in, finally opened. Little Noor crawled toward the beam, feebly reached for the door and slumped against whoever reached back and firmly grabbed her hand. Frail yet firm arms wrapped around her midsection and drew her closer and despite her weakened and battered self, the fanalis easily recognized the scent of the person kneeling in front of her.

"Y-Yana…?" She rasped weakly, too tired to even wonder what she was doing here.

"There, there, sh, I'm here now. You do not need to fear anymore, I'm right here with you lady Noor. No, my apologies, _lady Peyrus_."

It took her a whole minute to proceed the information, too worn out, too broken to comprehend Yana's words. Still, the once maid caught the exact moment her lady caught the true meaning of her words, realization and horror obvious on her exhausted face.

"Sharah Peyrus has died." Yona informed tonelessly, ignoring the tremors in the fanalis's shoulders. "In compliance with her wishes, you, Noor Peyrus, are thereby the new head of the Peyrus family."

Noor burst into tears against Yana.

"I, Yana, have guaranteed my master, Noor Peyrus, accession to a status that is rightfully hers by poisoning the late head's, Sharah Peyrus, tea. In doing so, I have severed all my master's links to the Temple as the Peyrus family has a responsibility toward the Royal Family. Congratulations on your new position, _lady Peyrus_."

The fanalis froze against her maid and raised dumbstruck eyes toward the woman. Yana's usually bright disposition was gone, her eyes were cold, her voice flat and the large, voracious and downright cruel smile on her face rendered unrecognizable. Obviously basking in the power of her words, Yana carefully, softly stroked her hair, bending so that her noses were almost touching.

"No one will save you here, lady Noor." She all but purred, lips momentarily pressing against her ear. "Even the barbaric creatures you associate yourself with know not to intervene in family matters. That expendable boy is no big deal as well, here in our tender and lovely care . You may not understand our intentions right now lady Noor, but I promise you…"

Yana got up and turned on her heels. She paused as she exited the cell to glance one last time at her former master.

"…soon enough, you'll thank us. Everything I am doing is for you, lady Noor ."

The door slammed shut behind her, letting the fanalis digest everything she had heard. Clenching her fists, little Noor curled up and let out a muffled scream against the fabric of her tattered clothes. Yana– whoever was pulling the strings, knew nothing. Noor feared dark and confined spaces, that was a universal truth and everyone knew that. Noor liked Sharah Peyrus, that was also painfully true. What people didn't know, couldn't understand, was where her affection for Sharah stem from. Sharah Peyrus was Himalia's sister first and foremost, she was Himalia's memento. No matter the consequences, no matter how much time it would take, Noor Peyrus would not forget. Friends, family or whatever, _she would kill them all_.

Here in Reim, nothing mattered more to her than the fanalis Corps. The rest was expendable. _The rest could rot in hell and she wouldn't care_. _She would kill them all, in the most vicious and painful way possible._ _ **She swore it**_.

" _I will kill you all_."

* * *

 **Vindictiveness**

* * *

" _My, don't you look good with those chains on_."

Noor Peyrus did not know she could hate someone to the point of wanting to shred them to pieces. She felt the fury set every single nerve in her body in fire and the ragging inferno was growing, making her limbs shake with barely restrained fury. If she had been aware of her surroundings, she might have noticed the people around her slowly creeping away and the nervous eyes following her every single move. She had stayed 5 days in her underground cell–one more day and her absence would look suspicious–and the conditioning had failed as she swore to herself to make her abductors _suffer_. Anger was a powerful feeling after all.

" _Your Majesty_." She hissed through her teeth, with such venom that she half-hoped it would take a material form to attack him.

Elegantly sitting without a care in a world, the former emperor of Reim offered her a haughty sneer, lazily waving toward the empty seat across from him. On his right, a man that she had never seen before tilted his head with a knowing smile, nodding ever so slightly in acknowledgment. The fanalis didn't even try to hide the hating expression on her face as she was pushed down on the seat. The masked individual on her right dropped a hand on her shoulder with a faked absent-mindedness, tilting his head in faux-inquisitiveness when she threw a frosty glare in his direction.

"Tea?" The former emperor questioned her with a pleasant tone, ignoring the animosity she was oozing.

"I wouldn't take the risk. Who knows, it _might_ be poisoned and I am not stupid enough to die so pathetically." She snarled, barring her teeth and ignoring the warning squeeze on her shoulder.

The emperor's lips twitched downward as he stared her down, eyes narrowing dangerously. Eyes switching between the two of them, the unknown man clapped his hands to draw their attention, eyes creasing as he offered them a polite smile. Little Noor immediately felt wary and tensed up under his scrutiny.

"Shouldn't we try to all get along? After all, you are in no position to refuse anything from us at the moment, _lady Noor_."

Her intestines coiled in disgust as his eyes unashamedly roamed all over her form, head slightly tilted to the side as he seemingly assessed her current condition. There was clinical detachment, but also morbid curiosity and an unwelcome amount of lust. He was looking at her like he'd look at a piece of meat, interested in the form and the taste but not too caring as his interest would ultimately die down as soon as he sampled it. His interest was both disturbing and worrying.

"I heard that fanalis were animalistic creatures but your form seems quite human, lady Noor. Unfortunately, I was never lucky enough to meet one before as my network was closely watched, but it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, _subhuman_."

There was such contempt in his tone, that she had to physically restrain herself from jumping him to strangle him.

"What do you want from me?" She asked instead.

"Quite simple, really." The unknown man answered lightly, calmly sipping his tea. "You, unlike the previous heads of the Peyrus family, are malleable, lady Noor. You might have been raised by the renowned previous head, you are no Himalia Peyrus. Your flaw is blatant, you are but a mere fanalis. Among your barbarian peers, how could you lead this country to its zenith? The magi's influence has poisoned our country from the inside, we are weakened and too prone to rely on you, mindless beasts. _**We**_ are ready to get rid of the weeds. Question is: will you follow us or wither away and die with the rest of the Temple? The choice is up to you, lady Noor, but do remember that the _boy's_ life depends on your answer."

She laughed humorlessly.

"You must really be out of your mind to think that I would ever think to kowtow to you. I am a fanalis, the blood of the strongest race in the world flows through my veins. _Nothing can ever chain me down_."

' _Nothing can ever chain me down_.' She had been doubting these words for the past five days but now that she said them aloud, it sounded nothing but _true_. She was not alone. Here in Reim, with the fanalis Corps, she had nothing to fear. She would not die today nor would the fanalis Corps. Her conviction seemed ill-timed considering her situation but nothing had ever seemed to true before. Was that what people called _Rukh Guidance_? Was the world telling her that she was not meant to die today? Noor was not one to defy what people called _'Fate'_. It did not mean that she wouldn't fight to live.

"Let us not be hasty. You have to be aware that no one will save you here, lady Noor."

"I don't need to be saved."

"Suit yourself." The unknown man concluded, a tinge of disappointment coloring his tone.

 _She would not die here_. _Not today_.

* * *

 **Appendage**

* * *

"When is that family thingy supposed to end anyway?" Razol mumbled as she flopped down on a sofa.

Several members of the fanalis Corps grumbled as they passed by, fed up with her incessant inquiries. Yaqut rolled his eye but softly patted her head, feeling empathic. Noor had been absent for the past 4 days and when they understood that she had obligations to the Peyrus family whom she had been adopted into, they still felt like she _belonged_ to them. They felt like her obligations to the fanalis Corps outclassed the ones she had to the Peyrus family and in hindsight, Noor probably felt the same way. She wouldn't be here with them all the time otherwise.

"Serves her right, playing the Intelligentsia fanalis." Lo'lo scoffed without real heat.

Myron viciously kicked his shin and ignored his death stare.

"Shut up, you gorilla! You don't know a thing about her dislike for this family," she hissed angrily, bristling on her friend's behalf, "don't go running your fat mouth around."

Lo'lo opened his mouth to argue but surprisingly paused as he seemed to mull over something. Myron narrowed her eyes with obvious mistrust; Lo'lo remaining silent was like Myron trying to remain subdued, it just _didn't happen_.

"Why the hell did she even go there for, then?" He asked Myron instead and the female Alexius shrugged.

"She owns them, I guess. They took her in when the old advisors died, they gave her a place to call home. We didn't get along back then so when brother left and the old people died, she was on her own. There was no fanalis Corps back then, dumbass!"

The last comment was too much obviously and caused them to come to blows. Razol cheered on Myron of course, they were partners in crime after all, and Yaqut rolled his eyes in exasperation. Muu walked inside at this moment and immediately worked to calm them with movements that betrayed habits.

"Hey Cap'tain, when's Noor supposed ta come back anyway?" Yaqut drawled, sprawling down on Razol who shrieked in indignation.

"These kinds of gatherings take time. None more than a week, though. If she's not back in two days, we'll go and ask, there shouldn't be any problem. Affiliations are tricky but as things are now, Noor is more a member of the Temple than directly under the royal family. She has duties to the royal family but her positions as lady Scheherazade's adviser and as a member of the fanalis Corps are more important. It will remain as a standstill as long as her status in the Peyrus family doesn't change."

"And if it changes?" Yaqut enquired quietly, shivering as everyone around him froze to hear the answer.

Muu smiled but it was without warmth and the smile didn't reach his eyes.

* * *

 **Kingdom Come**

* * *

" _Spirit of Oneirism and Consciousness, I order thee. Swathe my body, enshroud my body and turn the dream into reality; Awaken, Beleth!_ "

Human beings are animals gifted with reason.

* * *

"Muu."

"Yes, lady Scheherazade?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Wholeheartedly."

* * *

" _Thou who propagates Obscurantism and Ignorance, thou who controls the power to approve and deny kings, bring forth the imperishable darkness that will consume all earth!_ "

Human beings are animals gifted with moral instincts.

* * *

"Your worrying is making me sick. She's a fanalis, she'll be fine."

"Shut up, you gorilla! Noor is more fragile than you think! You don't–"

"She's strong. She'll be all right."

* * *

"You idiot don't understand."

"Shut up! Your head rolls now!"

"Tch'. If I could die that easily, I would've been dead for a long time now. I guess that's what you get… for living so long."

"…"

* * *

" _ **The pieces lie where they fell. All in an endless corridor that only brim with despair, with no hope of ever reaching light again..**_ **."**

* * *

"No one needs to know."

"…"

"I'm sorry. I wish it didn't have to come to this. There's still hope here, not like where I come from."

"…"

"Can you hear me… _Wisdom_ , _Valor_?"

"…"

"I'm _here_. I'm right here. _Can you hear me?_ You… born with a heart made of steel, incarnation of the untamed lion?"

"…"

"Not awoken yet, but this time will come, eventually. Solomon has always been capricious after all."

* * *

" **...** _ **but at the dawn of a new era, light shall prevail as the shadows trying to darken this world again are only hollow ghosts from a forgotten past.**_ **"**

* * *

" _Extreme Magic…_ "

Human beings are animals gifted with emotions.

* * *

Like a single person, the thousands of human beings within Reim Empire raised their eyes toward the sky. Not a single cloud seemed willing to darken it.

* * *

 **A/N:** I am such a horrible person, I am aware of this fact and frankly speaking, rather like it! Honestly, I just underestimated my finals. I thought it would be okay and everything, man, who said finals were okay? I almost died back then. Then Christmas came and I didn't have time to focus on Lionheart and stuff and here I am!

Let us be honest: this is getting totally out of hands. This chapter is the perfect, absolute, (totally awesome) replica of the one I had in my mind I am so freaked out. It probably seems weird for you because the vibes are so different from the last chapter it's almost creepy but please, bear with it. I am an absolutely awesome crazy and psychotic lunatic and I sometimes don't get simple things. For me, this succession of dissonant chapters is totally normal. For you, it's probably like I lost it or something. I did not. I am very, perfectly, absolutely sure of what I am doing and it's crazy shit. Please, bare with it.

I know I'm not the easiest person to follow but there's a meaning, I swear! Here, I'll give you your first clue: why do you guys think the story's title is "Lionheart"? I mean, okay I talked about it in chapter 1 or whatever, but that's it. Why would I name my story after something so insignificant? Y'know, some people told me that Noor was the Lionheart because the scene of her birth is right after the Lionheart's death. I ain't denying that theory, who knows, that might be just that. Just saying, what makes you think that it can't be a name? What makes you think that it's a woman? What makes you think that it's even born again yet? Hell, when the hell did I say anything about it being a human being? Sure, it refered to a human being in the first chapter. Who the hell decided it was a name? Huh... Well, that's pretty much it about Lionheart. Good luck with that anyway.

Okay, frankly, someone needed to die. Some people needed to move and some things needed to move too and in order to do that, someone needed to die. RIP Sharah, man was your life short and your screetime even shorter. I'm curious to know how you understand the last part, 'Kingdom Come'. That's prety free, I had a specific meaning in head but I'm really curious what's your opinion on this one so I won't say anything for now. Talking about 'Kingdom Come', the end seems like I barfed some words on my word page and wrapped it up, huh? Well, it could be just that but nope. You guys probably recognized 3 persons out of all the persons speaking. It's not difficult for Noor, it's just metal vessel nonsense. Scheherazade and Muu is okay too, they're doing master-lapdog again. Myron and Lo'lo are pretty obvious too, I guess. I wonder if you'll ever find the remaining ones, probably- most likely not but it's still hilarious in my mind since I find it kind obvious.

The end is an echo to the chapter's title: Limbo. I won't pronounce myself on my religion and hope I offend no one with the references, it is absolutely not my aim. Limbo here means... well, it's kinda hard to explain. It's a standstill, nothing's moving, nothing's changing, everything is trapped within a void, no evolution, no motion. Muu stagnated, so do Noor and the remaining of the fanalis Corps. Some people from an opposing faction are trying to put an end to the status-quo but it lead to the 'Kingdom Come'.

See? I ain't crazy, there really is a link between everything. Muu and Noor reached this state of stagnation with Noor's fast development in 'Body and Mind'. Noor advanced but Muu didn't and now they've reached a state where none of them can't move because there is no way to move without upsetting the balance, without disturbing that oh so great and dreaded thing the world of magi calls 'FATE'. This status-quo has been ruptured though, therefore, great changes are occuring and jumble mess at the end. I'm awesome like that y'know or mayb just plain batshit crazy. Who knows?

I make no promises for January, don't ever promise to try hard since it seems like some otherworldly misfortune will cause next chapter to be late anyway. Well, hope you have as much fun banging your head against walls trying to understand that shit as I have fun picturing you all doing that. You cute little readers are a daily source of entertainment, thank you for allowing me to have such possession over you.

Next time!


	13. Kingdom Come

**Lionheart**

Chapter XIII: Kingdom Come

* * *

 **Blinds[#]**

* * *

" _Yunan?"_

" _Yes?"_

"… _you ever had children?"_

 _The magi blinked over his tea, cocking his head to the side as he stared at her. Thoughtful, the fanalis was tracing invisible patterns on the wooden table. She raised her eyes to stare at him when he remained silent, understanding dawning as she realized how intimate her question had sounded. There was nothing wrong with the question per se but Yunan was a magi, he probably did not have time for a wife and children._

" _I'm so sorr–"_

" _Don't." The magi cut her off, pale hand reaching toward her and patting her cheek affectionately. "I am loved by the rukhs and that is enough."_

" _That means you've never loved anyone." She stated slowly, lips twitching downward when he nodded._

 _Little Noor looked down, observing the way her hands clutched Yunan's._

" _I'm sorry." She said._

" _There is no need for you to apologize. I have no special person to give special affection to but I love every single being of this world. Besides, I am loved."_

 _Again, Yunan's hand brushed her cheek and she shivered at the warm feeling. Sometimes, it was hard to convince herself that the magi was a man. Yunan could have been her mother. The tiny gestures of affection, a pat here, a hug there, had caused her to sometimes almost refer Yunan as 'mama' in her thoughts. He was attentive, kind and Solomon so loving that watching him was both warming her heart and saddening her. She was happy to be there with Yunan but it made her wish to have never met him as he caused her to long for this affection she hadn't been allowed to._

" _I'm here." Yunan whispered knowingly, voice warm. "I'm right here."_

 _Yunan squeezed her hand once, twice, and Noor closed her eyes, basking in the strange feeling of maternal love._

* * *

 **X**

* * *

" _Prince Naseem!"_

 _A dirty-blond, sapphire-eyed, fair-skinned boy dove behind a bush, right hand securing the stolen fruits in his pouch and left hand pressed against his mouth to muffle any sound. Regulating his breathing, the boy rolled his eyes as a dozen of servants and even more guards ran all around the castle, screaming his name. Content with his (stolen-) treats, the boy remained where he was, oblivious to the chaos his absence was creating. Naseem wasn't one to willingly annoy and worry the personnel–as much as his mischievous face said otherwise–but he had had enough._

 _Adverting his eyes from the sad display, Naseem emptied his pouch, brushing aside its content to grasp his most precious possession._ _ **Annals of Earth**_ _. This strange, silly and ridiculous book had always accompanied him till now and the boy always felt sentimental whenever he looked at it. It reminded him of a time when he could comfortably sit on the lap of a woman he could call mother and listen to her soothing voice as she recounted him the various adventures of four beings said to have been gifted with a specific essence, born to protect the only survivor of the Twelve._

 _Even after this woman died, Naseem had kept reading this infuriating book, comparing it with all the historical books of the castle's library. He had almost shred it to pieces more than once. They were so many inconstancies, so many vague and incorrect events that there was no way to define a precise timeline and no way to link it with the history of this world. Some pages were even missing and the only pieces remaining were confusing things about_ _ **another world**_ _. Naseem wasn't particularly well-versed in the Toran language and could only decipher a few words but among them were 'King Solomon', 'The Great Chain of Being' and in between them, "a calamity descending from the sky, shattering the Great Chain of Being and triggering the rebirth of two beings that should have never existed again_."

 _The book was ridiculous and its content outrageous. Naseem adored it. Even though there was no way to prove the veracity of the information, it didn't matter. Naseem loved that book. He'd uncover the truth_.

* * *

 **Accalmie** [1]

* * *

Naseem stared dispassionately at the unconscious body in front of him, poking it with his shoe while idly wondering if this was enough to kill a man. Intrigued, the boy stared at his left hand and more particularly at his seal ring, that was emitting a faint glow. _Mmh_. So, _that_ was a household vessel. Naseem had thought that it would demand heavier requirements but it was strangely easy, if trust was the only thing needed. Absent-mindedly, the boy wondered if the Djinn had touched his heart to sound his intentions. Probably not, if so, he would have never made Naseem a household member. Or maybe the Djinn was as cunning as his owner. " _Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer_." Naseem laughed. At the moment, he was neither friend nor foe so it was alright. He couldn't tell for the future though.

Wondering how would Noor react if he told her that all that comradeship was a lie, that he was nothing but a mindless puppet whose strings Scheherazade pulled, he stepped out of his cell. Naseem didn't even know if his emotions mattered anymore. He had been nothing but a dog, used by the royal family and on the verge of being kicked out when the magi had taken him in. Rumors of Scheherazade accepting him reluctantly weren't exactly true, the magi had made the whole thing up because Naseem's position was advantageous. As an outsider, several people would try to get to the Temple through him. He would let them of course, because that was his role and Scheherazade would catch them. _Simple_.

Sometimes, he wondered why the magi didn't inform Noor. Then, he remembered that she was the one the woman-child trusted the least in the Temple, not because she didn't want to but because Noor was way too independent and reluctant to give herself wholeheartedly to the magi. Scheherazade loved Reim. _She really did_. One did not rule a country for 200 years by simply loving it however. She treated them like tools and they knew it but it was fine. At the moment, he owed his life to the magi and he'd honor that debt by offering this life to her. Sometimes, Naseem's mouth shook as the truth burned his lips when he saw Noor smile at him, with such honesty that his heart ached with guilt. Then he remembered Scheherazade's warm eyes as she looked at him. He kept his mouth shut.

A conspiracy against the magi and more generally the Temple, using Noor's undefined position in the Peyrus family, Naseem would have scoffed in disbelief if it wasn't for the swiftness of the operation. Whoever the mastermind was–because that fat pig of a former Emperor was _most certainly_ not–he was _good_. Scheherazade good. To think that he would use the old Sharah Peyrus, who had a foot in the grave already, to take two of Scheherazade's most useful assets away. Scheherazade had the Temple, the Department of Development  & Research and the Fanalis Corps. Noor and himself were the political power however, compared to the three other that would be useless in the storm that was about to come.

"Of course, they couldn't have chosen tomorrow, to stage a coup d'état or something." The boy commented drily

The ceiling shook and Naseem looked up, rolling his eyes. That was fast. As much as he wished to consider her in a strictly neutral and objective way, Naseem could not, he had spent too much time by Noor's side to see her objectively. She was a brutish, aggressive and barbaric woman, hiding this feral side of her behind innocent smiles and doe-eyes. He had seen her knock men twice her size out and shatter a boulder with her _bare foot_. This beastly side of her wasn't only physical, she even verbally attacked people during war councils and sure it was a tactic like another but man, it left a lot of victims. As expected of a fanalis. Still, Naseem thought that it would take a bit more time for her to snap and start tearing everyone and everything down. Well, the sooner the better.

Following the screams, Naseem exited the dungeon, wondering what kind of scene he would stumble upon. The situation was tricky, they had been attacked first but should they lay a hand on that damn fat pig of a former Emperor, they would be the one at fault and as his sibling, the actual Emperor, would have no other choice but to punish them. Naseem knew that Noor was aware of these untold rules. Still, was her mind clear enough that she remembered them?

7 corridors later, the screams were more pronounced and Naseem could hear insults that he didn't even know before. In his peripheral vision, the boy caught a glimpse of a tall man, probably 6-foot-tall, hard to say with only a brief glance, undoubtedly not a day over 25, blond-haired, dark-skinned, his only distinguishable trait being the absolutely gorgeous–undoubtedly made of emerald–earrings adorning his face. They were long enough to brush against his shoulders and the design wasn't something Naseem had ever seen before. The man slightly turned his head toward him, offered him a polite though downright impish smile and disappeared behind an adjacent door. Naseem imprinted the face in his mind, for later investigation. First, he had a Naseem to impersonate and a fanalis to stop. Or help, depending the circumstances.

Naseem stepped inside a large hall and immediately regretted it.

"Oh boy," he moaned out loud, fidgeting nervously when furious ruby-red eyes settled on him, "oh _shit_."

Noor was unscathed. Her hair, once falling on her shoulder blade was barely reaching her ears. Her nose was purplish, swollen and probably broken. Her clothes were tattered. _Noor was relatively unscathed_. When the Fanalis Corps would hear of what happened, Naseem feared the outcome. Noor had disappeared for a supposedly familial problem and now– _oh boy_. He didn't even want to think about it. Even for him, _that_ was too much. Killing the perpetrator now seemed an even better idea and it was saying something, since it could lead to the capital punishment.

"Hi." Naseem said lamely, wriggling his fingers in greeting.

The fanalis scoffed but didn't answer, trying to cover herself to the best of her capacities with what little of her clothes remained. Naseem used that moment of inattention to survey the room. The black people– _specialized in assassination and recon, usually only under the Emperor's orders but well, the crown was quite in a mess right now_ –who had abducted the two of them were lying on the floor, all twenty of them, probably knocked out cold. Naseem couldn't see nor smell any blood on them so it was safe to assume that she had been clear-headed enough to remember that these people, though working in the shadows and currently theoretically the enemies, were indispensable to the country. _Tricky politics_.

"Are you hurt?" Naseem asked slowly, uncomfortable with her silence.

"Just a scrape." She answered curtly, gesturing toward her left hip. A lucky hit probably; the wound was superficial, barely bleeding and wouldn't let a scar. "I'm fine."

The lapsed into silence, Noor too annoyed–or distressed, who knows?–to say anything else. Trying to act like he usually did and ignoring the tension, the boy walked toward her and stopped right in front of her, raising his head to look at her in the eyes. She was two inches taller and most of the time, seemed to loom over him. Even among women, Noor was ridiculously tall with her nearly 6 foot. Her height only added to her ridiculously aggressive appearance. With his 5'8", Naseem still had to look _up_ and it was ridiculous as _Lo'lo_ , _**not even the tallest member of the fanalis Corps**_ was 6'7" tall. _What was wrong with that DNA?!_ Brushing his envious thoughts aside, the boy handed the fanalis her metal vessel. She thanked him with a grunt and he rolled his eyes.

"Well then, should we get out of here?" Naseem asked, already turning on his heels to walk away.

" _No_."

The blond stopped, taken aback. He glanced at Noor over his shoulder but she was turned in another direction, staring at the individual Naseem knew the head of the silent unity.

"What–"

" _Spirit of Oneirism and Consciousness, I order thee_ ," she intoned, ignoring him completely, " _swathe my boy, enshroud my body and transform the dream into reality. Awaken, Beleth!_ "

 _What in Solomon is that woman doing?!_ Panicked, Naseem staggered backward, both impressed by her Djinn equip and frightened by her intentions. She spread her arms out and the miniature wand extended to resemble a double-bladed scythe.

"Noor, what do you think you are–"

" _Thou who propagate Obscurantism and Ignorance, thou who control the power to approve and deny kings, bring forth the imperishable darkness that will consume all earth_."

The floor started to shake and Naseem latched on to a nearby pillar to conserve his balance. He raised his head as magical particles assembled above their heads to form a glowing, giant eight-pointed star surrounded by a circle. The walls started to tremble as well and Noor raised her weapon toward the magic circle, expression still unnervingly blank. The commotion stopped and everything stilled into the air. Then, the fanalis slammed her weapon on the floor and the pseudo-earthquake resumed at once.

" _Extreme Magic_."

"Oh shit," Naseem moaned.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

" _Yunan?"_

" _Mmh? What is it?"_

" _What do you know about_ _ **Annals of Earth**_ _?"_

 _The fanalis stared at the guardian of the Great Rift, scrutinizing his every gestures and expressions. The magi gave no reaction whatsoever though, his pleasant expression not lessening as he took a careful sip of his disgusting herbal tea. He hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his index finger and beamed at her._

" _I wonder about that."_

" _So yo do know the book." She accused lowly, irked by his reluctance to answer._

 _He only smiled cryptically, tilting his head to the right as he observed her. Yunan was a strange and enigmatic individual but not a liar, if he didn't answer her it simply meant that he either could not or did not want to. Still, he had never showed any reluctance in answering her questions so far so little Noor doubted that it was unwillingness. Maybe if she changed her tactic…_

" _What is a lionheart, Yunan?"_

 _The magi's smile softened, as if relieved. "There is no real answer to that question. Some say that it's an individual with a heart literally made of steel, the embodiment of courage and wisdom; other believe that it's a being made of flesh and blood but whose heart burns with more passion than any and whose able of the greatest evils and purest actions equally. I wonder what the truth is…"_

" _Greatest evil? Purest action?"_

 _Yunan snapped out of his contemplation and raised suddenly serious eyes toward her. He wasn't smiling anymore or rather, he wasn't radiating as muck candidness and kindness as he did before. His piercing eyes were staring straight at her, inquisitive but unwavering, scrutinizing her expressions in search of what, she did not know. Uncomfortable with his sudden change of behavior, little Noor squirmed in her seat and adverted her eyes, nervously fiddling with her thumbs._

" _What do you think of this world, Noor?" At her lost expression, he decided to elaborate, "how is this world made like? What differentiates good actions and bad actions? How can you be sure that your actions are good?"_

" _That's what… that's why rukhs exist right? And magi too. This world is like a single great river, follow the stream and you're in the good direction. That's rukh's guidance, right? To make sure that our actions are good, we just need to follow this path called Fate."_

" _That's right. That's why this being called the lionheart exists. It is said that they once committed a great sin that went against every principle of this world; yet, their heart made of steel never fell into darkness. They accomplished the greatest sin for the sake of an even greater good–"_

" _A lesser evil to prevent a greater evil." Noor mumbled, cutting him off. "You mean that a necessary evil must be accomplished for the sake of a better outcome? T-That's… That's sick! Would you take someone's life if it could save another millions of people? That's absur–"_

" _Wouldn't you kill anyone for the sake of Reim?" The magi asked sadly._

 _Little Noor fell silent and adverted her eyes in shame._ _ **She would**_ _. Without any hesitation, if a situation ever came in which getting rid of_ _ **Yunan**_ _here could insure that the inhabitants of Reim Empire–the Fanalis Corps, Scheherazade, Naseem–lived, she wouldn't even hesitate. She would be torn by remorse afterwards but Noor could–_ _ **would**_ _kill for the sake of Reim._ _ **Two wrongs made a right**_ _. If Yunan's presence ever threatened Reim, killing him would be okay since he was the one threatening first._ _ **A necessary evil for the sake of a better outcome**_ _._

"' _When faced with two immoral options, the one that is the least immoral should be chosen'." Yunan quoted softly. "That's what makes a lionheart. A being capable of the worst for the sake of the best. Your heart can never be made of steel Noor, but that's all right. You're a human being, there are no such things as pure or evil hearts, each heart contains a bit of the two. You cannot make a necessary evil out of pure intentions, but that's all right. It doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. A lionheart is a being whose heart burns with more passion than ever, whose will won't ever be swayed by notions such as good or evil. A lionheart is a being made of flesh and blood, whose heart is made of steel."_

" _I understand." Little Noor sobbed, shaken by the realization that her moral might not be as good as she thought, "I understand."_

 _Gently, Yunan grasped her hand a squeezed, a sad smile on his lips._

" _You're not good Noor but you're not evil either. Just remember that doing everything to avoid a greater threat, no matter how immoral, is not necessarily evil if it's for the sake of a greater good. Fate is set in stone but there isn't only one path to accomplish it. As long as you don't lose yourself, you will keep moving forward."_

" _I understand." Noor whispered brokenly. "There is but one step between greatest evil and purest action."_

 _Yunan gave her hand an encouraging squeeze._

* * *

 **Royal Flush[#]**

* * *

"Muu."

"Yes, lady Scheherazade?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Wholeheartedly."

Muu Alexius didn't even hesitate as he answered, ruby-red eyes meeting the woman-child's knowing gaze head on. Despite what people claimed, the fanalis felt so, so selfish. Devoted to Scheherazade? That was a fat and ugly lie. Muu Alexius wasn't only devoted to the magi, long ago, he had crumbled when facing her warm sapphire eyes, melted into a malleable substance that she could order around without him ever considering protesting because _Scheherazade_ was _that much_ to him.

Sometimes, Muu felt guilty to be such a malleable… there wasn't even any word for this. Muu's adoration was to Scheherazade and he found himself incapable to draw a line between the Muu who loved– **adored** the magi and the leader of the fanalis Corps. If Scheherazade ever asked something from him, something pertaining the fanalis Corps, would he consider the wellbeing of his subordinates first or would his loyalty cloud his judgment? Muu had never found himself in a situation during which he would have to consider the fanalis Corps over everything and hoped it would never happen. He didn't know if he would be able to make the good choice.

Sometimes, in the depths of his mind, Muu resented Noor. He resented her ability to draw a line between who she was with the royal family, within the Temple and with the fanalis Corps. Noor Peyrus was a slightly hostile individual when it concerned the royal family, fiercely loyal to the Temple and Scheherazade and not bothered by her position as a member of the Peyrus family since her loyalty was clear. She was a devoted yet guarded member of the Temple, following orders without protesting; however, despite her obvious trust for Scheherazade, she didn't– wouldn't give herself wholeheartedly to the magi. The fanalis Corps was her everything. If ever asked to choose between Scheherazade and the fanalis Corps, her answer would be obvious. Muu wished he could be so decisive.

Sometimes, Muu wondered why the fanalis Corps followed him. Most of them were loyal since he had been the one to free them from their living hell but was it enough to dedicate their life to him? His own dedication to Scheherazade was different, more like falling in love at first sight–though love had nothing to do with anything at that time, Muu had fallen for Scheherazade long, **long** after–spontaneous and uncontrolled. His instincts had dictated him to bow down before that person and he had. The members of the fanalis Corps however… Muu had never expressed such loyalty toward them despite his unmistakable affection for them. Why would they keep following him? Would they leave if he told them the truth about fanalis?

"I used Noor to lure out troublesome people without her knowledge. They exceeded my expectations however and moved in a way I had not foreseen. Will you respect my wish and act like I order you to?"

Muu hated that. He hated that and himself for not being able to do anything against that. Noor and Scheherazade's relationship. It was better after the ordeal the country had went through with Noor's disappearance that had made the magi realize how needed she was, but it would never be enough. They were so close and distant at the same time, Noor obeyed Scheherazade both out of respect and duty and the magi offered more lenience and allowed disagreements. Still, Muu wished that their relation was similar to his with the magi. It would never happen, though. Noor was too guarded and stubborn and Scheherazade too wary and cautious for that to happen.

"What about Noor? Does that mean she wasn't at a family gathering these past few days?"

Muu felt his intestines coil with panic at the woman-child's silence.

"Is she in danger? Did something happen to her? Lady Scheherazade I–"

"Muu." Scheherazade interrupted serenely, eyes opening slightly to _stare_ at him. "The fate of a whole country cannot revolve around a single being. If something were to happen to her, it would be regrettable but all of this is for the sake of our country. What is the life of a person in the face of millions? I've protected this country far too long to let discord sow the seeds of chaos."

Muu opened his mouth, faithful agreement on the tip of his tongue. Then, he saw red hair, ruby-red eyes, a warm and genuine smile and heard a soft, raspy voice say " _Muu-san_ " in amusement. His mouth shut with an almost audible clack. The members of the fanalis Corps, Lo'lo and _Myron_ would never forgive him if he abandoned her. Who was he kidding, Muu Alexius would never forgive himself if he abandoned her. Noor was strong and reliable but he remembered her tears when she had welcomed him back after his long absence and the almost desperate way she had hugged him, as if asking him to never let her behind again. There was so much he did not know about Noor and so much he still wished to know. _She was family_. Muu Alexius did not let his family behind.

" _No_."

His whispered words could have been a shout in the silence that followed. Muu didn't dare raise his head to gauge Scheherazade's expression, would he see disappointment if he did? The magi remained silent and Muu almost faltered, almost apologized and begged her to forget his interruption. _But he didn't_. Muu Alexius was a member of the Alexius family, Scheherazade's king Vessel but also the leader of the _fanalis Corps_. Muu Alexius had a duty to his subordinates and Noor Peyrus was one of his subordinates too. He wouldn't leave anyone behind. It was time to _take a step forward_.

" _I won't let her behind_." Muu assured firmly.

He waited a few seconds to compose himself and raised burning eyes toward the magi, faltering slightly at her expression. _Scheherazade was smiling_. There was amusement and excitation but above all, pride in her smile, as if… as if she had actually hoped that Muu would oppose her, make _that_ decision.

"Good." The magi said softly, nodding. "Noor Peyrus is a member of the Temple, a member of the fanalis Corps and above all, my advisor. Threatening her is threatening me. My pride as a magi has been slighted at the same time they touched her and I won't let anyone hurting her roam free. It's not an order for the fanalis Corps, Muu, it's an order for you. Bring Noor Peyrus back and drag here the one who decided to insult me, any means are permitted."

Muu bowed his head, a smile forming on his lips. _That_ was the reason the fanalis loved Scheherazade. She might be ruthless when the time demanded it, she was also compassionate and loved Reim and its people more than anyone else. Noor was not someone Scheherazade had selected herself but the magi acknowledged her as her king Vessel, a citizen of her precious country and one of her right-hand man. Scheherazade loved Noor as much as she loved Muu or any citizen of this country. She was fair. She was loving. He didn't regret following her.

"Yes, lady Scheherazade."

Muu bowed a last time and turned on his heels, expression already turning feral, blood pumping under his skin at the prospect of tracking whoever the perpetrator was down and _killing_ – _oh_ , subduing him.

"Muu." Scheherazade called behind him and he stilled and turned around to look at her. "Bring them back. Both of them. And don't hold a grudge against Naseem, he only did what he was asked to."

 _Naseem_? Muu nodded, internally wondering what did the boy have with all this. Sure, Naseem was nowhere to be found but it wasn't a rare occurrence, the boy often disappeared to god knew where and only reappeared when he felt like it. Muu didn't particularly like Naseem–nor did he dislike him, he just didn't have a concrete opinion and too few information about the boy to start with–but he seemed like a good kid. He really seemed to like Noor anyway and the girl trusted him to some extent so it was good enough for him.

Wondering how he would explain the situation to the others, because Muu wasn't foolish enough to launch into a manhunt on his own and besides they would have his head if he didn't brief them about Noor's situation, Muu speed walked toward the estate, mind whirling furiously as he thought about the way he would handle that _mission_. Using the fanalis Corps wasn't good enough, people would see it as a way for Scheherazade to certify her power and the last thing to do right now for the magi was to prove herself threatening. He could use the soldiers from the Temple though, their only purpose was to protect Scheherazade and their deployment would signify that a move had been made against the magi. Besides, with soldiers moving rather than the fanalis Corps, the emperor would be forced to give a hand to show his support.

If the former emperor was indeed at fault, using royal soldiers would be the icing on the cake, his own forces pointing their weapons at him and since nobles would have none other choice but to be against him and with the actual emperor, it would also mean that they'd be _with Scheherazade_ and they wouldn't be able to withdraw anymore or it would be considered treachery. Muu Alexius was no Naseem or Noor, he was no monster of politics but well-versed enough to know where to strike. Wasn't that his way of fighting anyway? Noor probed weaknesses when Muu only smashed whatever defenses had been erected. Amusedly, the fanalis patted his sword with a slight smirk. His specialty was _literally_ strength so he wouldn't hold back.

Muu felt shiver run down his spine as he approached the estate, a malicious intent palpable all around him. Not yet a killer intent but the leader of the fanalis Corps could feel the barely restrain bloodlust begin to leak. He entered the estate apprehensively, wincing as the sound of muffled screams reached him. His apprehension turned into annoyance then worry as he realized that it wasn't a normal confrontation. Kicking the door of the hall open, he stared at a passively irritated Razol facing a downright murderous Myron. The rest of the fanalis Corps had formed a circle around them.

Now that he took a better look at the situation though, it seemed more serious than he had initially thought, as instead of being beside Myron like Muu would've expected him too, Lo'lo stood beside Razol _glaring_ at the young Alexius; and even more surprising, Yaqut was beside Myron, a tinge of disapprobation on his face as he stared languidly at his partner. It wasn't only the four of them, the members of the fanalis Corps where not forming a circle around the two girls like Muu had previously thought, they were standing on each girls' side and glaring daggers at each other.

" _Outta my way_." Razol ordered firmly, a faint scowl on her usually stress-free face.

" _Make me_." Myron challenged fiercely, glowering at her partner-in-crime.

Razol twitched, as if actually considering physical means to make her step aside and Muu decided that enough was enough. A cold rush of killing intent filled the room, thick, heavy, controlled and promising instant death. All heads immediately snapped in his direction but the Alexius didn't stop here, he thickened his intent, made it even heavier, more threatening, reminding them just _why_ Muu Alexius was the leader of the fanalis Corps. He only relented when the youngest members, struggling to stay upward and _breathe_ sagged under the pressure. Everyone else–but Lo'lo who just discreetly turned his head and exhaled deeply, stubborn as always–gasped loudly, as if they had spent long seconds underwater unprepared and finally emerged again.

Muu's smile was razor-sharp and there was no ounce of warm on his expression. After a good half-minute just staring at his subordinates who looked like they had kicked an innocent puppy and regretted it, Muu finally stepped forward, stopping right in front of his sister and Razol. The former adverted her eyes in shame and the latter dropped her head, fiddling with her clothes. For a second, Muu considered letting them off the hook since they looked so guilty but decided against it, deciding to assert his authority once and for all. Muu was naturally kind-hearted and it had prevented him from affirming himself as their leader through sheer strength, but he was an alpha and as such, needed to show them who was stronger here.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked coldly, the lack of warmth making the two girls flinch. "Well?" He pressed when none of them answered.

Another member behind Myron made to say something but Muu pinned him down with a frigid stare, staring him into silence. The other's mouth snapped shut. Muu's eyes then returned to the two girls, still unable to meet his eyes and he narrowed his eyes for good measure. He was by no means enjoying that but he had no choice, he had been too soft with them so far and sometimes, settle the problems pacifically was not an option. He needed to be firmer, to remind them _who_ and _what_ he was.

"We wanna go and see how sis's doing." Razol mumbled, her voice barely a whisper but he heard her just fine. "But stupid Myron here said that we shouldn't move if ye didn't allow. Didn't wanna jeopardize yer position."

He heard a tinge of remorse in Razol's tone, as if she finally understood Myron's point.

"But you told us that we could go and see if she wasn't back by now," Myron carried out, taking a peep at him and immediately adverting her eyes when they made eye-contact, "so they thought it would be good by now."

There was understanding in Myron's tone as she begrudgingly accepted Razol's point. Muu fought a smile as he observed the two of them, women in all but behavior. They looked like children at the moment and frankly, he couldn't bring himself to see them as anything else. His baby sister had grown up and even looked like a proper lady outside but she was still so childish. Razol was younger than Myron–barely a year but younger still–and she was no better, always finding a way to fool around.

Brushing the ill-timed thoughts aside, Muu raised cold eyes towards the rest of the fanalis who all squirmed under his scrutiny and somewhat tried to merge with the floor with the way they hunched their shoulders. Only Lo'lo stood tall but he adverted his eyes, sweat trickling down his forehead when Muu's eyes settled on him. Satisfied with their explanation and the guilt he could see on all their faces, Muu narrowed his eyes.

"I will not allow this kind of behavior here." He announced lowly but he had no doubt that everyone was hearing him loud and clear. "We are family. I will never betray you and you will never betray me. I will be each one of yours ally and you will reciprocate it. I will never doubt you and you will never doubt me. We are the fanalis Corps. Follow me without an ounce of hesitation and I will make us family."

Muu thought about the Dark Continent, the truth about fanalis and made up his mind. It was their choice after all, he had no right to keep them in the dark, enchained here. Vaguely melancholic, he wondered how many of them would leave after hearing the truth. Still, he at least owned them that. _Muu talked_. When he stopped, he felt none of the righteous anger he had expected, no resentment, _nothing_. They all remained here around him, staring at him as if they _expected_ something from him but Muu did not understand what they could expect from _him_.

"So, Captain," one of his subordinate asked, shoving him playfully, "didn't ya say that ya'd make us a family? What ya waiting for?"

Muu stared.

"Hey Captain," Razol giggled, ignoring the screaming Myron when she jostled him teasingly, "you was so cool 5 minutes ago, where did that all go?"

"' _I will be each one of yours ally and you will reciprocate it_ '," another female said with a straight face, her voice deepening as she mimicked him, "' _follow me without an ounce of hesitation and I will make us family'_."

Everyone snickered at the poor imitation and Muu fought a smile of fond exasperation. It seemed so silly to worry about them leaving, why was he even worried in the first place? They had chosen a long time ago to remain with him when given the choice, they had made their decisions a long time ago knowing that something might wait for them outside. They were the fanalis Corps. They were family. Muu smiled, not softly like he usually did but fiercely, predatorily and the members of the fanalis Corps suddenly watched him intently, surprised but excited by his bloodlust.

"One of ours has been taken," he announced solemnly and almost smiled at the almost palpable anger he got in return, "and we will take her back. _Follow me_."

Muu turned and headed for the door. He didn't need to turn, he knew that the whole fanalis Corps was walking right behind him. _From this day on, the other nations finally heard of the small army named 'Fanalis Corps' consisting of only fanalis, feared, admired and bringing instant desolation when unleashed_.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

" _No one needs to know."_

"…"

" _I'm sorry. I wish it didn't have to come to this. There's still hope here, not like where I come from."_

"…"

" _Can you hear me… Wisdom? Valor?"_

"…"

" _I'm here. I'm right here. Can you hear me? You… born with a heart made of steel, incarnation of the untamed lion?"_

"…"

" _Not awoken yet, but the time will come eventually. Solomon has always been capricious after all."_

"… _Ugo-kun? …why are you crying…?"_

" _It's okay Aladdin. I… everything will be alright. In this world where only two are aware, 4 will awaken to perform their duty once more and then, two who shan't have existed at the same time will again."_

"… _what is that supposed to mean?"_

" _Someday, you'll understand Aladdin. I promise_."

* * *

 **X**

* * *

" _Are you absolutely certain, Yunan?"_

" _I am. Certain people are trying to summon an entity that does not belong to this world. When the conditions are met and the well in the sky has opened, the incarnation of the alien entity shall permit that which does not belong here to absorb everything, from life to time. The end of our world."_

"…"

" _You have lived for as long as I have, Scheherazade. You saw for yourself that some people are waiting in the shadows, sowing the seeds of discord to create chaos. They are trying to use this era of war to summon that which does not belong here. They are using the war to create a_ _ **Black Spot**_ _."_

"… _I need to think about it."_

" _Of course, I didn't mean to pressurize you, merely to inform you of what I have seen. Be careful, Scheherazade. To them, worshipers of that which does not belong to this world, we, magi, are obstacles."_

" _I'll protect Reim to my utmost capabilities. As for the rest of the world…"_

"…"

"…"

"… _so, that is your answer?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Then so be it."_

* * *

 **Busto[#]**

* * *

Muu Alexius jostled awake, feeling vaguely disorientated and nauseous. His heart was beating so loudly that he could hear it clearly. Don't get him wrong, though fanalis had enhanced-hearing–his a bit diminished compared to the rest of the fanalis Corps, but well that was genetics–hearing the beating of a heart required silence and a bit of concentration. Even in the silence of his bedroom and with his loud breathing, he could faintly hear the erratic rhythm of his beating heart. It took him five long minutes to get his breathing under control, time that Muu used to try and understand what could have caused such a panic. He could vaguely remember fading bits of his dream: a woman calling him out. He had already forgotten both her features and the sound of her voice.

Tossing the blankets aside, Muu got up as he decided that going back to sleep would be unproductive. He could use the early hour to train a bit and blow off some steam, there was still a lingering unrest and an uneasy feeling that kept nudging his gut. Muu exited his bedroom after throwing on some clothes. His silent steps seemed to echo loudly in the corridors but fanalis were heavy sleepers by nature so wasn't really worried about anything. No one was never up at such an early hour anyway, no one was serious enough to start a day at such a ridiculous hour. The only person serious–or stupid depending the person expressing their opinion–enough to do that was_

Muu Alexius faltered in his stepped and almost lost his balance. Using a wall to remain upright, he pressed his left hand against his temple, the sharp pain he had felt inside his head having disappeared as fast as it had appeared. Shaking his head at the weirdness of this morning, he shook his head once more and resumed his walk, deciding that fresh air would be good for him. He only hoped he wasn't coming down with any disease; the only time Muu had been sick, it was because Myron had given him chickenpox. Back then, he had healed in three days when the other children in their neighborhood–Myron had infected _that_ many people and Muu still had no idea how she had contracted it in the first place–had taken a good two weeks. Since then, excerpt from a particularly nasty flu, he'd never been sick again.

Muu slowed again as he made another turn, staring at the door neighboring Myron's bedroom. Even as he racked his brain, he could not for the life of him remember who occupied it. Lo'lo's room was down the corridor he had just left, closer to his and Razol was a bit further down, right next to Yaqut. This one however… Muu didn't even bother to knock as he threw the door open, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the empty room, the perfectly folded bed-linen. Suddenly irrationally uneasy, he hurried toward the dresser and violently opened it. _Empty_. As were the other cabinets. There wasn't even an ounce of a smell, meaning that the room had always been empty.

As he turned on his heels to storm out of the room, still feeling that misplaced anger, the fanalis caught something at the edge of his sight. Slowly approaching the bed, Muu stared at the lock of red hair innocently resting on the otherwise void-of-human-presence room. He carefully picked it up, pressing his nose against it to get a whiff of their owner's perfume. Muu felt his eyebrows join his hairline as he stared at the totally odor-free lock of hair. The logical side of him insisted that it belonged to an idiot in the estate who had forgotten where their room was and crashed inside this one without knowing it wasn't theirs, tidying everything up when they realized they had made a mistake. It was the logical explanation, the lock of hair not having any odor meant nothing if it had been here for some time, besides it was just a single lock so it was normal.

Still, there was the other side of him, that insisted that him waking up in the state he had, the sharp pain in the corridor, the uneasiness, the inexplicable anger and the frantic way he had searched the room as if looking for something– _someone_ –was no coincidence. There was something amiss; what, Muu did not know. It was just a gut feeling, nothing concrete and nothing he could explain with rational argument but it was there and driving him crazy.

"Nii-san?"

Muu looked over his shoulder to find Myron Alexius standing in the doorway, sleepily rubbing her eyes. Muu felt a wave of guilt gnaw at his stomach, as he realized that he hadn't even tried to be discreet when searching the room and Myron was right next door. His sister blinked sleepily, stifling a yawn and Muu felt his lips twitch with exasperated fondness. The only reason she was so tired, like always, probably was because she had wasted half her night bickering with_

"Nii-san?" Myron repeated and he jumped as he realized that had zoned out.

"Do you know whose bedroom this is, Myron?" Muu asked slowly, watching his sister like a hawk as she took in the room, opened her mouth to say something, furrowed her eyes confusedly, looked at the room again and finally shrugged, confusion obvious on her face.

"Don't know." She answered truthfully, eyes dark and without recognition. "Don't think it ever belonged to someone. There're a lot of empty rooms anyway, are you planning on moving here?"

Muu smiled in faint amusement as he watched her try not to show her distaste even though her nose had already scrunched up. Ignoring his sister who mumbled something too low for him to hear anyway, Muu stared a last time at the empty cabinets, before striding out of the room, the lock of hair still clutched in his hand. Myron mumbled something that vaguely looked like " _I'm going back to bed_ " and Muu waved a hand without looking back, eyes furrowing in confusion. Pursing his lips, he opened his hand to stare at the lock of hair. _There was nothing to worry about_ , he convinced himself as he shoved the strand in his pocket, he was only being paranoid. Shoving the incident aside, Muu buried it in a corner of his mind, the lock long-forgotten barely half an hour later.

The whole day passed without Muu succeeding in shaking his uneasiness off. He found himself zoning out several times and sharp pain attacking his head each time he thought about_ What was he thinking about already? Well, whatever. He had also asked several members of the fanalis Corps about the empty room but they all had answered like Myron. Lo'lo had taken a bit more time before answering, as if actually considering someone, but had shrugged in the end as he told Muu that no one was coming to his mind. Muu couldn't help but keep thinking that something was amiss, something he was used to see and had around him all the time. _It was not here_. No matter where he looked for or how he tried to remember what was he missing, he just couldn't remember.

Muu was finally proven right two days later. He kept waking up at ungodly hours, sweating, his breathing erratic and his heart beating frantically but never remembering his dream. Each time he passed by the empty bedroom next to Myron, he couldn't help but stop to enter it, looking for something that was obviously not here. In the middle of the night of the third day, Muu received a missive delivered by a frantic messenger that Scheherazade had sent. Fifteen minutes later, he was kneeling in front of the magi, her back to him as she observed Remano from her balcony, Muu inwardly debated with himself as he wondered whether mentioning the strange feeling he'd felt these past days was worth it or not, the lock of hair heavy in his pocket.

"Muu, you do know what rukh guidance is."

She wasn't asking, merely stating a fact. He nodded even though she couldn't see him in her position.

"A magi is a being loved by the rukh, they are thus able to see them and use them as they see fit; that is why in a sense, a magi can see what is commonly referred as ' _Fate_ '. I, however, am not Scheherazade. As a clone that has received part of her magoi, I can still see rukhs and use her magic. I cannot, however, see that which is called destiny. It is beyond my power and my sight."

Muu's lips twitched as he refrained from asking what she was driving at.

"I apologize. I had no way to see it, I didn't even realize the deed until it was too late and now, I'm afraid that we have no way out of it."

"What… whatever do you mean?"

"We are trapped Muu." Scheherazade answered softly, finally turning her melancholic sapphire-eyes toward him. "This reality we are living is not ours. No, that is inexact. This is our reality but if it is raining outside at the moment, we will never know because this Remano– no, those close to the person who casted this magic, have been conditioned to forget everything pertaining to them. If a rainy sky is a reminder of them, then our sky will permanently remain sunny. They have made sure that we would not realize that they are gone."

Muu opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words stayed stuck in his throat.

"I would not have realized the subterfuge if not for two things. The first, even if they perfectly disrupted our magoi without us even noticing, the rukh perceived the change and became erratic. It reacted to the distortion of reality. Secondly, as a clone of Scheherazade, I almost immediately felt the disruption but thought it a simple dysfunction of my body. I only realized when everyone around me told me that they did not know who I was referring to."

"Lady Scheherazade, tell me, who did I forget? Was it someone important to me? _No_ , I know they were. Who are they?" Muu asked urgently, his hand clutching the strand of hair in his pocket.

"Noor." Scheherazade answered slowly and Muu felt a sharp pain when she pronounced the strangely familiar name. "Her name is Noor Peyrus. She's your friend, your subordinate, your family. You cannot forget Muu. You are not allowed to."

 _Noor_ , Muu repeated inwardly, testing the familiar name on his lips, _Noor Peyrus_. _Noor_. _Noor_. _Noor_. Straightening, Muu bowed once and turned on his heels, striding out of the room as fast as he could without breaking into a run. The door closed slowly and Scheherazade turned toward her balcony at his departure, tilting her head as she stared at the man innocently sitting on the railing. Everything was silent between the two of them before Scheherazade decided to break it.

"How did you know?" She asked quietly, narrowing her eyes when he offered nothing but a cryptic smile. "There was no disturbance in the rukh and I felt no disturbance in my magoi. How would you know?"

"I am not affected by this type of magic." The wandering magi chirped with an enigmatic smile, "I felt the immediate change but it didn't affect me. It would need to rewrite the fundamental principle of the rukh for it to work on me and this magic is nowhere powerful enough to do it."

"Why would you care? You're not one to preoccupy yourself with the problems of any nation. What is it to you? Why would you go so far for a single person, who willingly erased her sole existence for the obvious purpose of keeping Reim safe?"

Yunan said nothing for a moment as his smile dropped and he turned to watch the sky. Scheherazade watched him like a hawk, taking in the vaguely nostalgic expression on his face and above all, the almost painful longing. Whoever Noor Peyrus was, she obviously meant a lot to the magi if he was ready to go to such lengths just for her. Scheherazade wondered what kind of relationship they had; and how she could use it to her advantage. Scheherazade had nothing against human and no intention to ever turn against him. Provided he remained out of her way.

"She just promised me that someday, she'll rid me of my loneliness. I'm just holding on to that promise, making sure that someday comes. I'm just making sure that her hear can never be made of steel."

"It is not and it will never." Scheherazade protested without missing a beat, frowning as she realized that this spontaneous reaction was out of line since she had also forgotten Noor Peyrus.

"You're right." Yunan said simply but did not elaborate.

The two magi remained silent, only listening to the wild rukhs exposing the wisps of the magic that had warped the reality. Both of them wondered where and when the lionheart would arise. Where and when their eternal punishment would come to an end.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

For a single moment, Noor Peyrus thought that she would succeed. Maintaining the flow of magic was hard and she felt like her insides were ripping open but she managed it. she summoned her extreme magic, warped the whole space around Remano and promptly passed out. She thought that she was going to die, that this ultimate act that would reconcile Remano and not create as much problems since a fanalis didn't hold so much power, would be her last. She was prepared for it. It was her greatest good. Her atonement for every problem her single life had ever created. Without her, some crisis would be overlooked. Naseem wouldn't need to lie anymore. Muu wouldn't worry anymore.

She couldn't. Noor had always lived considering herself expendable and now that she had started to value her life, she couldn't allow herself to die, couldn't do that to her family. She had once, she couldn't do it twice. It was selfish, it was so selfish but Noor wanted to live, she wanted to live with the fanalis Corps, wanted to be acknowledged by Scheherazade, wanted to discover her parentage and wanted to see Masrur and Gyokuen Ren again.

Even if Muu had realized the subterfuge, it wouldn't take long before Scheherazade and he forgot again. She had planned everything, she had made sure to be able to disappear seamlessly. But Noor didn't want that. She didn't want to stop living, to stop existing even if her existence created problems. Even if her whole existence was troubles. Noor Peyrus wanted to live, for this woman who had sacrificed herself for her, for her surrogate mother who had died bequeathing everything to her, for her family who expected nothing from her, simply to live.

For a long, agonizing moment, Noor Peyrus let herself dying, turning her back on everyone who had made her who she was now. She closed her eyes, let herself sink into the darkness, let her life leave her. Then, she started struggling, refusing such a pathetic death, not willing to die just yet, not as she still had so much to. She stretched out her hand, reaching toward who she did not know but just, just– _just not willing to die yet_. Someone grabbed her hand, firmly yet tenderly, lovingly, longingly.

" _I'm here. I'm right here_."

Her magic undid, like an embrace loosening, losing strength and finally disappearing. Like a single person, the thousands of citizens with Reim Empire raised their eyes toward the sky. Not a single cloud seemed willing to darken it.

* * *

 **X**

* * *

" _It's been a long time."_

 _Ignorance stared at the man in front of him, at lost for words. His hair was muddy, his clothes ripped and dirty and he hadn't taken a bath in over 5 years. Even animal didn't approach him anymore, repulsed by his nauseating odor. In front of him, despite their warm smile, Love was unashamedly crying, his corporal odor so strong that it brought tears to their eyes. Pursing his lips, Ignorance took a step back, rolling his eyes as the androgynous being in front of him exhaled in relief and suspiciously eyed his counterpart._

" _Who're you?"_

" _My name is Love. It's nice to meet you again, Ignorance."_

 _Ignorance blinked. He had been living for 19 years so far and had traveled for 5 years and never in his life had he met the person in front of him. Creeped out by their knowledge of his name and scared that his magnificent body would be ravished, Ignorance took another step backward, angling the branch in his arm toward the other being who rolled their eyes at the makeshift weapon. Love muffled a snort of amusement as they eyed the weapon–a branch,_ _ **really?**_ _–and raised their hands to appear less threatening, no that they were in the first place._

" _I've known you for my whole life, Ignorance. I was_ born for you _. Well, you can't remember me since you weren't in that form the last time we met but I can assure you, we already met once_."

" _What proof have I that you–"_

" _Wisdom. Valor. You never found them again. You can feel them but you've never found them, so you stopped looking. Now, you're just wandering_."

 _Ignorance remained quiet for a few second as he observed the person in front of him, their silver blond barely reaching their chin and their sapphire eyes twinkling in mirth as they stared at Ignorance. They were smiling slightly, head cocked to the side as they waited for Ignorance's answer._

" _You said that your name was Love, right?_ "

" _You can call me Yunan_."

* * *

 **A/N:** I am so, so, so, so, so, so, sooooooooo sorry. Last time we saw each other was in December right? I've been (not) so busy since then and haven't (I have in fact) had much time to write. Okay, let's be truthful, I struggled. I wasn't quite sure how I wanted this chapter to come out, it has to be a huge breakthrough since the time of stagnation is over but it has to move forward without being to revealing. I think I did a great job. I answered questions with even more questions so that's good.

Back to business, this chapter is axed on poker terms since I thought it fits with all the revealings but not too much and misdirections. Here's a glossary:

 **Blinds:** Compulsory bets, by one or several players, before the cards are handed out. In this chapter, it refers to several character who retain information from close people, when they know everything they have to know about those people. They didn't 'bet' unlike the others.

 **Royal Flush:** You guys know what a royal flush is. Here, it's because Muu finally (hopeffuly) becomes canon Muu Alexius, knowing how to draw a line between lapdog-Muu and fanalis Corps-Muu. He finally matures.

 **Busto:** Brankruptcy. When a player's been kicked out from the tournament. It's obvious who's been kicked out in the story, huh?

As for **[1]** , **Accalmie** is afrench word because I couldn't find an equivalent good enough in english to use, it just didn't sound right when I tried to translate it so I just let the french word. An **Accalmie** is a momentary stillness, a spontaneous cessation of everything, like the situation's been momentarily frozen in ice before time starts again and the **Accalmie** ceases. Translators suggested 'respite' but it just didn't seem strong enough and lost its meaningful **-ness** (yes, I do know that word does not exist).

Huh, I received a... strong message, telling me that me switching from british to american english was annoying. I apologize. I am FRENCH you see, they don't teach either british or american english at school, it depends on the teacher you got and since my teachers ranged from british, to american, to asutralian and even irish people... well, I'm sorry. I'll try to be careful but I can't really make the difference. Do people who learn french, learn how to do the difference between how french people talk in the north and in the south? Granted there's a different between the accent, but there's no difference between the two when written.

By the way, my aim isn't to offend anyone but I find british english so much easier, y'know. Not when writing, I don't see any difference when I write but hearing british and american people speak in english is like, wow. British people articulate so much, it's so much easier to understand. My 11th grade english teach' was from New Jersey and damn if I didn't make her repeat at least twice because she was just chewing the syllable and not articulating enough. I could've strangled her. Australian english is good too. Weird, but good. I think iris people are funny. Their accent is cool. Well, my irish english teach's accent was cool. She couldn't say 'eleven', it sounded like 'éleven'.

Huh, back to the story, I hope the chapter's to your taste, it was a bit hard to write. I hope it cleared the ending of last chapter. Stillness then progressiveness. Muu and I are good, I hope you'll be too. Naseem's a dick. Scheherazade is manipulative but she does it for the sake of her country so can we blame her? Emphasized the fact that Scheherazade's a clone. People ought not to forget. Yunan is complicated. I emphasized his presence because obviously, you've noticed by now that he's quite important in this story. This chapter is centered (relatively but still) on Muu. And on the mysterious book, **Annals of Earth.**

Chapter's not proofread. Just fresh out of Word. Bear with the mistakes like always.

There. That's it, we're done here. I'm off my planning so don't expect anything so soon, I'll try extra hard for April since my birthday's on the 4th and I got a break of a week but really, it'll take me longer for now on sinc eI want to focus on specific parts of this story. A month to write something ain't gonna cut it, I'd say to minimum if I don't have to slave for school. I think I'm gonna repeat a year. I got my first semester with flying colors but lost heart someone and it's now that I only have a month before my exams that I'm starting to realize how much I fucked up. I don't wanna repeat a year but I missed so much class and my half-semester exams. I'm soooo doomed. I'm quite depressed actually, I don't know how I got to that point aaaaaaaaand I'm not here to lament on my life.

Love you guys all!

 _ **Update 24th December 2017:** I did not die, this story is not abandonned, my computer went kaput in spring and I overreacted over the loss of what I'd already written resulting in a huge writer block. Chapter 14 is half done, I'm writing so slowly. I'll try to revise the first chapters to motivate myself. I think I'll write a spin-off to vent my frustration or concentrate on my other story which's less headache-inducing. I've had strange urges lately, killing-off my main character is one of them and wow, sometimes I scare myself so much. Be good, I'm trying to get in the game again. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year!_

 _XOXO_


	14. Dandelion

**Interlude**

Noor Peyrus was the least troublesome member of the fanalis Corps, it went without saying. Or rather, she was so ashamed of the trouble she created herself, that she went all out to try and hide it from the rest of the fanalis Corps. Noor was a diligent and efficient worker, the sheer focus she put in a single task was headache inducing for the rest of the fanalis. This was one of the reason they had never discovered the trickery. The other reason, of course, was Muu Alexius.

* * *

 **Funny Fact #1:** The Market Incident

* * *

Four months after the foundation of the fanalis Corps, little Noor made such a mess of the Market, that she locked herself in the Peyrus Estate for weeks, too ashamed to show her face. On a free afternoon, after she finished all the blasted paperwork and made sure that no one was causing trouble anywhere, she indulged in the pleasures of her favorite activity: act like the commoner she was not and help out citizens in the Market place. Noor loved the Market place. People here treated her like they would treat anybody, her title didn't mean a thing in their eyes. Scheherazade could walk by and they'd go back to their activities without sparing a glance back.

Most of the stall owners weren't really poor but their life was nowhere near easy. They had been reluctant to accept her help at first but after months of showing up and helping out without their consent, their distrust had lessened and they'd just accepted her presence. It didn't mean they treated her kindlier, dear god no, but at least they didn't glance at her suspiciously when they thought she couldn't see them anymore. Noor loved spending time in the Market.

She spent that fateful afternoon with _Grandma_ , a grumpy and sour-tempered old woman who didn't want to admit that she didn't have the strength to lift heavy baskets anymore. Her son had married a year and a half ago and the old woman insisted– _yelled at him was more accurate_ –that he took care of his family instead of worrying about her. Whenever her son showed up to help, the old woman shooed him away by throwing him fruits. The woman always grumbled and yelled at Noor whenever the fanalis showed up, but Noor was so fond of her that she kept coming.

The afternoon had started fine. She was being yelled at because she couldn't peel a fruit to save her life and the neighboring stall owner's son, three years her senior and happily married, was laughing at her. Noor was trying to ignore him and not break the table she was peeling her fruit on out of frustration, when it happened. A boy–probably not older than 12–dashed between the stalls, pushed Grandma out of the way as he made a clumsy sharp turn and stole all the fruits on display.

Both she and the neighboring stall owner's son wasted a few seconds staring and feeling stupid before they sprang into action. Noor kneeled next to Grandma, who was grumbling under her breath, thankfully unhurt, before brusquely standing up and running after the boy, shouting at everyone around to take care of Grandma. Usually, she didn't bother to try and catch up to the little thieves, he was a child and hungry, he needed the food and had no way to afford it, she just let it slide. This time however, this one had stolen from someone who struggled as much as he did to live. Stealing from wealthy people was alright, stealing from miserable people was no good. Besides, he could've hurt Grandma.

It took fifteen seconds to the fanalis to catch up to the boy. The little thief was running around the stalls, his loot pressed against his chest. Noor sped up, making a sharp turn when he did, quickly gaining ground. The boy turned his head as he realized that something was definitely wrong, made eye contact, widened his eyes and let out a high pitch scream; he immediately sped up– little Noor did not know a boy so short and so young could run at _such_ a speed.

"Wait, get back here!" Noor screamed after him, dodging the people in the way, "I won't hurt you, I just want to take what you stole back!"

The kid obviously did not believe her.

"Please, don't kill me!" He wailed, crouching and sliding under a stall.

Noor faltered in her steps, bewildered, and crashed against the stall owner, the force of the impact sending them tumbling against the stall. The fishes on display flew everywhere, along with the icicles supposed to keep them cold. Horrified, Noor rolled to the side to find an unconscious stall owner and a ruined stall. The stall owners around her gaped, speechless and Noor slipped on a fish when she tried to get up. Mortified, she felt her face burn with embarrassment. Cursing the damn child under her breath, she–

Little Noor's head turned so fast that the people around her cringed, wondering if she hadn't given herself a whiplash. Almost at the edge of the plaza, the kid was taking off. Again. Pissed, Noor yelled an unintelligible half-hearted apology before taking off after him again, set on kicking his ass this time. She didn't bother running around people, she flexed her legs and jumped, clearing half the distance with a single leap. The ground cracked under her feet when she landed and startled by the sound, the kid dared another look behind her. He yelped when he saw her, infuriated beyond belief and done trying to be nice and sympathetic.

A fish stuck in her hair, another between her armor and collarbone, Noor bared her teeth, ready to strangle the little fucke– _child_. The thief tried to make another turn to destabilize her again but she was having none of that, as soon as her body turned in the adjacent street, she lunged forward, eyes widening as she realized that the damn _fucktard_ –damn politeness at this point–had flattened himself against the wall, predicting her next course of action. Little Noor flew forward for two seconds, eyes snapping shut as she realized where she was going to land. The momentum of her jump sent her 8 meters forward, right at the edge of the Market. Like a cannonball, she barreled through all the stalls in her way, ripping through them with zero difficulty.

When she landed, dust, dirt, wood and food everywhere on her body, Noor rolled for another five meters before finally stopping. Mortified, she remained face first on the ground, even as her body heated up in sheer, unadulterated embarrassment– _shame_ , even. Defeated, humiliated, discomfited, Noor refused to move even as Muu finally showed up to clean up her mess. The captain was silently laughing at her, patting her head in exasperated fondness, ordering the soldiers all around the Market to help the traumatized refused to go out for weeks after the incident. The rest, as they say, was history.

* * *

 **Funny Fact #2:** The Nerva Incident

* * *

Seven months after the foundation of the fanalis Corps, this time accompanied by a reluctant Lo'lo, Noor messed up so much that she would've left the country there and then had it not been for the fanalis at her side. Nerva Julius Caluades was nothing but a cheeky _brat_ and an idiot to boot but still the son of the actual emperor and the imperial prince. Noor virtually _had to_ get along with the dumbass since he was nowhere near as cunning as he thought himself to be and rather easily influenceable.

This time around, Noor met him at the Colosseum– she would've preferred not. Like a lot of high-class men, Nerva greatly Despised fanalis. Yes, with a capital letter. The only reason fanalis weren't enslaved in Reim anymore was thanks to Scheherazade who had persuaded the emperor of their value as soldiers rather than slaves. Still, even if the emperor did approve, it didn't mean everybody else did and Nerva Julius Caluades certainly _did not_. He held her in higher regards than her peers due to her position, but still disliked her and as for Lo'lo… well, hatred wouldn't even begin to describe the myriad of negative emotions the prince had for the fanalis.

At last, the encounter came down to the prince insulting her fellow fanalis, Lo'lo threatening him, Nerva ordering his guards to attack Lo'lo as he feared for his safety, Lo'lo resorting to violence and Noor knocking the prince out cold trying to separate everyone. Everything went silent for a moment, before the guards _and_ Noor freaked out. Frantic, the fanalis yanked her hair as she already imagined the death sentence for her actions, turned on her heels to flee the scene, her escape from Remano already clear in her head before Lo'lo clamped a hand on her shoulder and yanked her back, stopping her in her mad dash. The traitor was laughing his ass off.

Of course, when he offered to right the situation, Noor instantly felt suspicious but agreed anyway, Lo'lo wouldn't go out of his way to help her if he didn't want to. Still, as much as she appreciated his willingness to help her, she realized that trusting Lo'lo when it came to sort out matters was preposterous. The sight of the fanalis grabbing the unconscious prince by his collar, yanking him up and punching him– _so lightly in Lo'lo's mind, so, so hard in Noor and the soldiers' mind_ –left her completely speechless for a few minutes even as a soldier next to her fainted and the others gaped at Lo'lo.

" _What in the–_ " Noor shrieked, unable to find the words that would express the extent of her disbelief.

"With that," Lo'lo drawled, the left side of his face pulled in a tight smirk because of his Glasgow smile, even as he stared at her impassively, "he might have amnesia or something and forget everything."

Muu arrived just in time to separate them as Noor lunged, a murderous glint in her eyes, her killing intent spiking. The worst part of that story, was that when she saw the prince after that, two weeks after the incident, he had completely forgotten their encounter and had no idea how the swelling on his cheek had come to be. His escort dutifully adverted its eyes when she darted a look its way. The incident was never mentioned again.

* * *

 **Lionheart**

Chapter XIV: _Dandelion_

* * *

 **Whiplash**

* * *

Muu Alexius hadn't realized the impact the fanalis Corps could have on the population. As it was, when he believed that fanalis only inspired ire and sometimes maybe repulsion, he found himself surprised with the admiration. Muu himself inspired admiration, respect. He alone. He, member of the Alexius family, born and bred in Reim. The Alexius family had been active in Reim for _decades_ , _centuries_ even, of course, despite his lineage, Muu would inspire respect. He didn't think it was possible for the rest of the fanalis Corps however.

Fanalis were more often than not looked down upon despite their superiority in several domains. For a reason he couldn't quite fathom, they were belittled and seen as inferior by people who were _weaker_ than them in almost all cases. Seldom were the people who could confidently and rightly affirm being stronger than fanalis. Magis did not count. As he was now, Muu didn't think he'd stand a snowball's chance in hell in a fair fight against Scheherazade. Well, that would have been true if the Scheherazade he knew weren't a clone. As it was now and as much he respected her, Muu didn't think that the magi could best him.

Dungeon conquerors were another story as well. The sheer power granted by their metal vessel was tremendous and as a dungeon conqueror himself, Muu could say that he may lose against one, were he not a dungeon conqueror himself. Well, depending on the dungeon conqueror that is. He could not see himself lose against someone like Nerva who wasn't able to equip yet; and even though he were able to pull it off, Muu couldn't see himself lose against someone like him period. Then, there were people like the King of Sindria or Kou Empire's first prince who had conquered _more_ than one dungeon.

Some tribes all around the world were also to be considered. The Yambala tribe was obviously dangerous, considering the Yambala gladiators who resided here in Reim and were awful to deal with. The Imuchakk–though he had not met any yet–were also rumored to be fierce warriors. While the list might not be very long, it remained unsettling that such a number of people could be on par with fanalis. Well, none of them would go down without putting a hell of a fight anyway, stubborn as they were.

Striding in the streets like they _owned_ them, Muu expected awe and fear but not admiration. Yet, some of the youngest children were watching them from the windows, stars in the eyes as they waved frenetically. A step behind at his right, Myron didn't seem fazed by the attention, staring right in front of her as she walked, face closed-off, a slight tension in her shoulder. To his left, Lo'lo's eyes were roaming the street, his surprise well-concealed behind a neutral expression. The rest of the corps's expressions ranged from confusion to discomfort. Yaqut was winking at every lady his eyes laid upon and Razol waving as though she was some kind of important figure.

Muu refrained from rolling his eyes as he plastered a blank expression on his face, standoffish enough that people would know better than to bother him. It was the first time of the Fanalis corps being deployed, the first time the population truly laid their eyes upon his small army and Muu couldn't feel any prouder. Was it pride? Or merely satisfaction, self-contentment? A mix of both without a doubt. Still, no matter what feelings it could inspire him, it was no time to be distracted. Right now, they had an internal struggle to step on, rebellious dissenters to crush and a sibling to retrieve, scold and nurture back to health. Maybe kick her ass as well, judging by the somber expressions all around him.

The inhabitants of Remano parted for them in the streets, adding a way more dramatic effect to their procession than necessary. From the corner of his eyes, Muu caught the soldiers hidden among the mass who conveniently disappeared in back alleys, probably hurrying to report to their master the incoming threat. A sneer that Muu didn't quite succeed to curb plastered on his face, the expression so different from his usually placid one that some people did double take as they glimpsed it before he fully managed to even it out. There was no need to hurry, no defense would ever resist them no matter how much they prepared.

After that, after he hauled the stupid child back in her bedroom, Muu would make sure to thoroughly kick her ass– _woman_ or not, _younger_ or not–just so that she finally understood that her life was not only hers anymore. Noor Peyrus was his. Muu was not related to her by blood, nor could he claim a bond as strong as the one she shared with Myron, but she was his all the same. Her life was Muu's responsibility and everything from the last of her toes to the tip of her hair belonged to him.

So what if she was a member of the Peyrus family? So what if she felt indebted to them because of Himalia? If he had to, whether she agreed with him or not, Muu would break this debt himself and wrench her away from the damn family. Muu was done caring about the way she took things, he'd make sure by his own means that she was fine and properly taken care of. If she did not agree with his way of doing things, he did not care anymore. Noor Peyrus was his and from now own, he'd make sure to have her by his side, position or duties be damned.

"Nii-san?"

Myron refrained from touching him even though her hand was slightly outstretched toward him in an aborted motion.

"It'll be okay." Muu assured firmly, voice not low enough that Lo'lo, Yaqut and Razol who were the closest couldn't hear him. "We're strong."

And didn't these two words summarize everything? Didn't that summarize the whole situation, the world they lived in? Fanalis were strong. Freakishly strong, but that strength disserved them in so many situations. Overconfidence, inability to properly gauge situations, lack of self-awareness. More often than not, despite her supposedly great insight, Noor misjudged situations. She launched herself in situations too difficult for her to handle, in fights too impossible to win. Muu had had to step in more than once to haul her out of those hazardous situations. Recklessness couldn't even begin to describe the whole extent of her sheer stupidity.

The fanalis Corps was frustrating to a hair-ripping degree. Truly. Muu had wanted to dunk his head in the toilets and call it quit more than once. It was akin to have to babysit a group of overgrown, overly stubborn, overly strong babies. Despite that, Muu _loved_ the fanalis Corps and every single member who composed it. Once upon a time, it had been only Muu, his sister and their mother. He didn't talk about his mother anymore because it was something of a taboo between Myron and him, but sometimes he just felt compelled to think about the woman who'd make sure that both of them were and would be alright.

 _Celica Alexius_ had been the strongest woman Muu had ever met. Her death had been the reason he'd decided to give up on everything he had had here in Reim at that time to follow Scheherazade; because despite her strength, despite the kind of woman Celica had been, she had still _lost_. Sheer luck, Alva and Scheherazade had been the only reason both Muu and Myron were still alive. The rest, the way Muu had snapped and _obliterated_ the killer even though he had laughed and _'you couldn't save your mother_ " were all classified and never to be talked about anymore. Celica had died, Muu and Myron had lived, that was all there was to it.

Leaving Myron behind had been one of the hardest, most heartbreaking thing Muu had ever did. His sister had been his only remaining family, Noor had been there too, but she wasn't Myron, she wasn't… _just wasn't_. He'd concentrated on thinking about something else every single minute he'd spent outside Reim, but his thoughts never stopped derailing toward the baby sister he'd left behind. When he'd finally come back, it hadn't only been just Myron and him anymore. There was Noor and Lo'lo then Razol and Yaqut and his small family of two people had expanded until it became the fanalis Corps. All of them were his precious people and he'd stop to nothing to protect any of them, consequences be damned.

Myron's hand tugged slightly on the end of his sleeve before retracting to her side again and that was it. Muu was a lot of things, a bad brother in several instances and a terrible leader in others, but Myron loved and trusted him. That was enough to know that both of their trail of thoughts followed the same path. One loss had been enough. Muu was not ignorant of how people died and the terrible grief their loved ones felt afterward, and he was dead set on sparing his sister the process again. Well, both his sister and the rest of the fanalis Corps.

A muscle in Muu's jaw jumped as they left the most populated area directly on their way to the Peyrus Estate. 500 hundred meters ahead, he could already see the two guards at the gate tensing up as they watched the procession close on them. If Muu had wished to be a bit less aggressive and more diplomatic, he would have kicked troublemaker #1 and #2 aka his sister and Lo'lo to the back of the group. However, by taking Noor, the Peyrus family had directly spit him. Even if he had to tear through every single member of the Peyrus family–Sharah had died anyway and he had no lost love over the rest–he'd do it without a second thought.

"Muu-sama, Myron-sama." The guard on the left stuttered as they stopped in front of him, nervous in front of so many–and hundred times stronger than him–individuals.

"Let us through." Muu ordered flatly, well past the point of civility.

The guard on the left twitched and it was enough for Muu to know that he was hesitating, torn between his respect for Muu and the orders he had received. The one on the right didn't even blink as he stared at Muu with blank eyes, wholly unimpressed. Muu wouldn't hesitate to strike either of them to get past the gate anyway so their approval was frankly useless. Either they let them past of their own volition or they'd get walked over.

"You've been denied access to the Peyrus ground." The guard on the right announced bluntly, ignoring the way the other jumped at his forwardness.

Muu had expected anger and frustration, but not the cold, murderous rage that his sister emitted after hearing those words. Her killing intent spiked before she managed to stomp down on it. Muu didn't react, nor did Razol but both Lo'lo, Yaqut and the rest inched slightly away from the woman. The guard on the left almost tripped on himself to get away from her, the one on the right didn't react apart from a hand that dropped on the handle of his sword with deceptive nonchalance.

"I've been here millions of time." His sister enunciated slowly, almost carefully.

"That right has been denied." The guard on the right answered without missing a bit.

Well, that was it. Completely done with the civil approach, Myron marched up to them, shoulders tense and expression frozen. Muu held up a hand to prevent anyone from moving and watched with a sick sort of pride as his sister proceeded to thoroughly beat up the two men, the one on the left so revoltingly weak–or maybe it was the fear freezing him up–that he fell without even a hint of retaliation. The guard on the right–Muu memorized his face because one who didn't blink even in the face of a horde of fanalis was worth remembering–lasted a bit more but in the end, Myron's skill and sheer bullheadedness were way too overwhelming.

"Let's get going." Muu announced without missing a bit, walking past the twitching form of the two guards.

Lo'lo dropped a casual arm around his sister's shoulders and Muu felt his lips twitch, a sick smile stretching them. _Have fun,_ was what he wanted to say.

"Go." Was what he said instead.

The nervous energy that he'd felt building evaporated as they didn't wait for him to finish his sentence and split up in several groups, to wreak havoc wherever their feet would bring them. Only Lo'lo and Myron remaining by his side, Muu leisurely walked up the main path toward the front door. Not that he'd knock but at least, they'd know who was the head of the "expedition". Muu didn't even pause as Lo'lo kicked the front door open, ignoring the panicky shriek of the nearby staff members who immediately threw away whatever they were carrying and scurried out of the way.

Muu didn't even hesitate as he pulled his sword out of his sheath, the pentagram glowing as he pointed his sword at the frenetic guards pouring out of every corridor. Both Lo'lo and Myron took combat stances as well, their household vessel glowing. Muu didn't know what kind of expression he was making but the guards in front of him flinched at the sight.

" _Spirit of Hunting and Nobility, I command thee. Be clad in my body, dwell in my body, change my body into a great Djinn._ "

He smiled.

" _Barbatos_."

* * *

 **Deadfall**

* * *

The first thing she felt when she finally came to, was a finger poking her side. The gesture was hollow, hesitant and she probably wouldn't have noticed if the person doing it wasn't insisting. When the person realized that Noor was actually conscious, they poked a bit deeper, a bit harder and Noor couldn't help the grunt of discomfort that escaped her lips. She heard the person exhale with relief and focused on their respiration to ignore the whole bruise that was her body. She couldn't feel anything, nor could she move anything, the only cooperating thing were her eyes.

She opened her eyes with difficulty, instantly panicking when she realized that she couldn't see a thing. A hand clamped down on her wrist to quell the surge of panic and she inhaled deeply, mimicking whoever knew her deeply enough to guess that she was concentrating on their breathing pattern.

" _Noor_." They said with a familiar tone of exasperated fondness.

Noor closed her eyes to quench the tears, an inhuman noise escaping her throat as she wailed without even realizing. Yaqut's hand slide from her wrist to her shoulder, hoisting her into a sitting position. He quickly moved so that he was kneeling behind her and relented his hold on her. She immediately slumped against his chest, breath itching because of the pain. Yaqut's hand traced the length of her arm again, his warm hand soothing on her freezing skin.

"You're such a troublemaker." He snorted with every bit of exasperation he could muster.

Despite the unmistakable frustration and the harshness in his tone, he was handling her with extreme care. Swaying in and out of consciousness, Noor opened her eyes again, this time managing to get a glimpse of his mop of hair despite her blurry eyesight. One of his hand slid down her thigh to stop behind her knee (she would have probably headbutted for not keeping his hands to himself, if she had been able to) and the other lightly squeezed her side as a warning before he hoisted her as though she weighted absolutely nothing. The hand on her side squeezed again and she jolted awake, not knowing when she'd started falling asleep.

"Don't sleep." He ordered slowly, his voice almost breaking halfway before he steadied it again.

Noor distantly wondered if he was afraid for her or of whatever was happening on the upper-floors. Against her, Yaqut stood firm without the slightest weakness in his stance but then again, he'd always been the best at concealing whatever he was feeling. Still, the slight tremor in his hand was kind of a giveaway. She wondered if she had gone too far this time and if Muu was angry enough, that he'd take to disciplining her with physical means.

Even with her head feeling like it was plunged underwater, Noor still made out the sounds of metal clicking eerily, of heavy footsteps closing on them. Yaqut's hold on her tightened almost painfully and if she'd been less than she was, she would've probably cracked a rib or two.

"Hang on tight." He whispered urgently.

If she'd been able to, Noor would've probably laughed at him. As it was, not even able to muster the energy to respond, she merely tried–and failed–to shift against him so that she wouldn't be a hindrance if he had to fight back. Taking a deep breath–her throat burnt as she did so–Noor opened her eyes again, her sight sharpening and managing to make out more than blurry individuals. 4 guards stood between them and the exit, face frozen in a grimace of determination, swords pointed their way. In the middle of the group, hip jutted out, head cocked to the side and a strange look on their face–

The smell of spices and _something_ drifted her way.

The growl that escaped Yaqut's throat sounded completely inhuman and her cheek vibrated from where it was pressed against his chest.

The boy couldn't be a day over 16. Short-statured, baby fat lingering in his puffy cheeks, dirty-blond hair barely reaching his chin, she would've probably called him cute in any other situation. Way too young for her but attractive enough–if only he didn't look like a child. The boy looked on unperturbed, as though having enraged fanalis in front of him was daily occurrence.

He hummed thoughtfully, waving around what Noor previously believed was a sword. Instead of a rigid form, it was shaped like an egg-timer and had a gem embedded between each side. If the "sword" hadn't already been a giveaway, Noor would've probably freaked out as she realized that the lower side was channeling fire. The gem in the middle absorbed the flames, glowed and seemed to redirect the energy toward the upper part. The process took less than a second and if it had been her rather than Yaqut carrying her, she would've probably been hit head-on by the blast.

As it was, with nimble movements that would've probably put Myron to shame, Yaqut dodged, jumping sideway without losing sight of the guards and the boy in between them. Noor's stomach churn as she realized their predicament faster than Yaqut did. Neither of them had ever fought a magician before. While theoretically speaking they remained stronger, having no idea of how to fight him handicapped them. Well, Yaqut since he was the one fighting but Noor liked to believe that right now, their fate was entwined.

Yaqut's center of gravity shifted and she knew that despite the obvious disadvantage she represented, he'd try to fight back regardless. If it had been him alone, he would've won without a doubt, she was sure of that. Right now, however, he'd have to carry her, protect her from eventual harm, find a way to fight back and actually _fight_ back. His hold on her shifted again and she tried to move her left hand to slap his biceps. He couldn't rush in without a plan. He'd get the both of them killed.

"Don't try to fight back, you'll lose." The boy said with a placating tone, slowly lowering his wand.

"Who are you?" Yaqut bit back, ignoring his words.

The boy remained silent for so long that she thought he wouldn't answer.

"Some people call me Sheik, other Noam but I usually go by Barak. You may call me however you wish."

If she had to guess, judging by his complexion and the alias he went by, the boy was either originally from Balbadd or Aktia. Even if he'd obviously been in Reim for a long time judging by his lack of accent, he'd lived long enough in either country for the smell of desert to cling to him. He didn't smell like the desert per se but the spicy quality he gave off obviously came from a long exposure to it. His complexion was also a bit too tan. Reim inhabitants were still a lot paler than people who came from the east around the desert.

"Then get out of the way, Barak." Yaqut announced bluntly, leaning forward and bending his legs, "or I'll _kick_ you out of the way, kid or not."

Barak frowned, annoyance radiating from in his waves and raised his wand. Ah, this boy obviously did not like to be referred as a child judging by the way his eyes darkened. Well, both sides were closed off to negotiations it seemed. Yaqut jumped out of the way when Barak fired a lightning spell. Noor's eyes closed reflexively, and her world whitened in pain when her hip violently slammed against his armor. Unable to stop to assess her condition, Yaqut had no choice but to keep evading the spells without being able to handle her carefully. As she was now, Noor was a liability but Yaqut would never drop her to get on the offensive when there was a chance that if he did so, the boy would direct his wand her way.

The guards on either side of Barak decided that the boy was providing enough distraction and finally decided to move. A magician was a thing but normal soldiers? Mid-jump, Yaqut whirled on himself and dealt the closest soldier a lethal kick that sent his head flying backward even though his body remained glued to the floor. Flexing his legs as he landed, Yaqut immediately launched himself at the next one who tried to backpedal in panic when he realized his predicament. Raising her slightly, Yaqut kicked the man right in the chest, sending him flying backward toward Barak who lunged to the side to avoid the projectile. Yaqut's feet broke the floor as he landed, destabilizing the soldier who was rushing him from the left and making him stumble. Moving her to the right with only one arm, he used the left one to backhand the man across the face.

The last one came the closest to hurting him, his sword stopping short as it met his shoulder pad. Yaqut's left elbow dealt with the last one before he turned again toward the young magician who had already scrambled to his feet and was already firing another lightning spell. Dodging without a problem, Yaqut dropped her without warning, more carefully than he should have given the precious seconds he lost making sure she wasn't hurting too much. Immediately, he rushed the boy without a second thought, his movement more agile now that he didn't have to carry her anymore. Yaqut approached Barak faster than the younger boy could cast spells and struck without hesitation. He faltered when his leg met some kind of yellow wall instead of the boy and Barak used the opportunity to launch himself in the air, levitating above the fanalis.

" _Asfal Isar!_ "

This time, Yaqut barely managed to dodge as a wolf-like creature made of wind formed from the tip of Barak's wand and shoot toward him, jaw wide open. The wolf-like creature crashed against a nearby pillar as it missed Yaqut, instantly destroying it. It dissipated after the impact but Barak didn't seem particularly worried, his wand already channeling another spell.

" _Flash!_ "

As he stepped back to dodge the spell, Yaqut tripped over the body of a downed soldier, those precious seconds costing him as he threw himself to the side too late, the beam of light grazing his side and leaving nothing behind but a charred armor and burnt skin. Yaqut gasped at the pain, his left hand immediately clamping down on the injury to quell the bleeding. Distracted by the pain, he didn't react to the next spell fast enough.

" _Ramz!_ "

The bolt of lightning burst before Yaqut could get his bearings and struck him head on. Yaqut flew backward, feeling like every single cell in his body was frying up and crashed on his back, stunned. Muscles shaking because of the shock and unresponsive, Yaqut gritted his teeth as he heard the boy's feet finally drop on the floor again. He watched with fury–and fear too, because it had been years since Yaqut had felt so helpless–as Barak slowly made his way toward him, wand raised and face blank.

The lower part of the wand glowed before lightning started to crackle on it. The tiny sparks travelled upward, got absorbed by the gem which glowed and transferred the energy to the upper part. His wand crackling with lightning, Barak stopped two meters short from Yaqut, wand pointed toward his face. The magic concentrated at the tip of the wand. Body unresponsive, Yaqut closed his eyes in anticipation of the pain. Something draped itself over him, smelling like ink and sandpaper and Yaqut's eyes flew open as Noor's body clutched his, the top of her face pressed against his cheek. Yaqut unsuccessfully tried to kick her away, unable to muster any strength.

" _Ramz Bard_."

The ceiling collapsed half a second before the spell was fired and the sparks died out as it met rubble. With a war cry, Myron dropped from the upper floor, her feet firmly pressed against a soldier's back. The soldier cushioned the impact for her–probably dying on the spot if he wasn't dead already–and the younger girl took in the situation in a single breath, already throwing herself at the magician in the second. Dark energy formed around her arm guard and Myron punched the air in front of her even though she wasn't close enough to directly touch Barak. The motion fired a shockwave, fast enough that Barak only had time to form a borg before the impact. The shockwave shattered his shield without any resistance and Barak was sent flying backward.

" _Household vessel: Bard Kauza_." Myron announced slowly–a tad bit smugly–lowering her arm when she realized that the magician wouldn't immediately get on his feet.

She turned her back on the boy to kneel beside the two fanalis, gently peeling a shaking Noor away from Yaqut. Noor's eyes were open even if they kept rolling around, and a hand on her forehead confirmed that she was probably delirious with fever. Yaqut's eyes were open too but a muscle in his jaw twitched when he tried to talk, and he only managed to utter guttural sounds that didn't make sense. Well, at least, both of them were alive and relatively alright. Myron huffed with relief, left hand squeezing Yaqut's wrist.

With a definite nod, Myron got to her feet again, glancing at the magician who was struggling to get to his feet, breathing heavy and right hand pressed against his thigh, where the shockwave had hit him. Narrowing his eyes at the new arrival, he flinched when one more fanalis dropped from the ceiling. Then another. And another. Until the entirety of the fanalis Corps stood between him and the two wounded. Tensing up, Barak felt cold sweat run down his back when the leader dropped from the ceiling, glancing at his two downed members before he offered him his full attention, ruby-red eyes seeming to glow in the dark room. The fanalis's killing intent was so potent that Barak didn't realize he had stopped breathing until his both his lungs and throat started to burn.

Muu Alexius was even taller up close. Barak had only seen him once before and from faraway. The blank, expressionless face he now wore contrasted so much with the gentle, soft one he'd seen before. So, this was his true face. This was the true face of Reim Empire High Priestess's favored King vessel. Barak didn't dare to blink as Muu raised his sword, fierce eyes solely fixed on him, the expression on his face shifting. He didn't think anyone would believe him if he were to say that at this moment, Muu Alexius seemed more intent on causing a bloodbath than on rescuing his brethren if the delighted expression on his face was anything to go by.

" _Barbatos_."

Barak _screamed_.

* * *

 **Will**

* * *

" _Talk, or else I swear, I'll rip your tongue out_."

Noor Peyrus came to to these words, head spinning as she latched on to them to keep herself conscious. Her body felt so warm that she was surprised she hadn't melted away. She let out a pained groan as the world spun when she opened her eyes and a hand immediately fell on them, cool on her hot skin and comforting enough that she wouldn't have protested even if she had been able too. The hand was calloused yet soft, warm yet cool, large but gentle and with a small spark of fear, she immediately recognized its owner. Muu Alexius was not one to let his anger get the best of him, he'd wait until she was at least safe to start yelling at her. Though… judging by the way his fingers tightened just the slightest bit on her temples, she doubted that any yelling would be involved.

" _Lo'lo." Muu stated –ordered_ – and the fanalis, who Noor realized had been the one talking, stopped momentarily, probably turning to face Muu. "Get everyone and go."

" _Captain_ –"

Lo'lo's protest died down almost as soon as it started and Noor distantly wondered what kind of expression Muu was making that even Lo'lo was forced to shut up. His hold on her didn't change, not even a hint of anger, annoyance or disappointment and Noor's left hand twitched. Noor had never imagined that one day, Muu Alexius would scare her enough that she'd fear for her safety. Muu loved her, she knew he did, but even he had a limit and she'd been the only one to brush it several times. At this point, not even her safety could be guaranteed.

"Yessir."

There was something strange in Lo'lo's voice, an edge that hadn't been there before, that Noor didn't quite succeed to decipher. At least half of the fanalis Corps had had to be around her because when Lo'lo finally moved, she heard a cacophony of footsteps follow, all heavy and reluctant. All that remained after their departure was Noor's heavy and uneven breathing, the frantic beating of her heart, Muu's deep and calm breathing and a third one, so weak that she would've missed it if she hadn't been trying her hardest to ignore Muu's presence.

Slowly, Muu's hand slid down from her eyes to the side of her neck, his hold deceptively innocent as though a simple pressure couldn't snap it; and even though she wished she could keep her eyes close to pretend that he wasn't here, she knew that she _had_ to face him. Muu was kind and sensible, but also had a ruthless and cruel side that not many knew and Noor knew exactly what kind of expression he was making at this moment. She just wasn't prepared to face it, to have it directed solely toward her. Anger or disappointment would've been far much kinder and far less heart wrenching.

Even as she opened her eyes, Noor adverted them to stare at his left ear.

" _Noor_." Muu said quietly, with so much emotion that she gritted her teeth to fight back her tears.

Muu's hands wound around her neck and _squeezed_ , tight enough that she felt the pain and immediately started trashing, fear and panic pooling in her stomach as she let out a strangled scream; but not tight enough to prevent air from entering her lungs. Noor raised wide eyes toward him, redoubling in her thrashing as impassive, blank eyes stared back, the expression on Muu's face so frighteningly neutral, so frighteningly unexpressive that the thought that he might kill her right there and then finally popped up in her mind.

" _This_ ," Muu said slowly, not even blinking as her nails scratched his wrists in her attempt to break his hold, tightening his hands ever so slightly, "is the agony you made us go through when you stupidly threw your life away without even thinking about the consequences. This is what we have been feelings for the past three years, Noor."

Tears welled up in her eyes and her hands started to shake on his.

"You have no regard for your life, no regard for the people who care about you. Your life is not yours to decide whether to throw away or not. You were ready to die before we stepped in, why should you live?"

For a second, Muu's eyes darkened and he squeezed so hard that she was sure he would crush her windpipe and kill her in cold blood without any remorse. But his grip relented slowly, slow enough that she first took shaky breaths that didn't damage her burning trachea before breathing normally. Tears streaming down her face, Noor rolled on her side, away from Muu and his large hands, away from his cold– _Solomon so cold!_ –eyes. She curled up on herself, shaking with the force of her crying. She had expected a lot of things but this, this–

" _I'm sorry_." She pleaded in a strangled voice, "I'm sorry, forgive me. I'm sorry."

When Muu's hands found her shoulders, she didn't flinch even though her heart jumped in her throat; and when he hoisted her up, arms almost encompassing her with the way he was holding her? She buried her face in his collarbone, his long hair tickling her skin and almost hiding her face. He smelt like sweat, blood and warmth. She'd never felt safer than in his arms. Shakily, Noor raised her arms to encircle his neck, as though the both of them were still children and not grown-up and their position wasn't compromising. Muu let her, the arm around her back tightening ever so slightly.

Muu walked slowly as to not jostle her because despite her seemingly well state, she was still recovering from magoi exhaustion and her body was still ridiculously warm. He left the cramped isolation cell, walked by the inert form of dead soldiers in the vast living room, stepped over the beheaded former members of the Peyrus family in the hall and stepped outside the once-upon-a-time vast mansion which would inevitably crumble in the next hours. And if he left behind him a complete slaughter and still shaking staff members? Well, none of them were suicidal enough to accuse Muu Alexius of personally seeking out every single member of the Peyrus family to assuage a personal grudge. That was it.

Even though many tried to protest, Muu had both Scheherazade's back up and the fanalis Corps. No one in Reim was suicidal enough to incur the fanalis Corps wrath. If children asked about the _Peyrus Incident_? Their parents shushed them with promises to never ask about it anymore. Even though Muu Alexius kept his carefree smile after that, women stopped flocking to him. If fanalis caused mayhem somewhere in the city? Soldiers let them go with a slap on the wrist. Fanalis were not to be trifled with and if one of their own was threatened? Everyone feared that they would be next on the list. Discrimination against the fanalis stopped short. They had ascertained their place in Reim's hierarchy and no one was ready to oppose them. _Yet_.

The walk to the barracks was both longer that it usually was and shorter than she'd expected it would take. She inhaled deeply as soon as Muu took a step in, it smelt like wood, dust and fire. It was the smell that had defined her home for the past three years. She closed her eyes, focusing on the muffled yells she could hear further away. Even the noise sounded like home. The first step of the staircase creaked when Muu stepped on it, as did the fourth and the thirteenth ones. Noor hadn't realized that she had hurtled down these stairs so many times she knew which steps would creak.

Muu took a left turn at the top of the stairs, walked past Yaqut's bedroom first then Razol's, turned right, walked past Myron's room and– _ah,_ hers too. When he final stopped, in front of what Noor knew was his room, she shifted slightly so he could use his right arm without her hindering his movements. He said nothing but the slight rumble that she felt vibrate in his chest was as much as a thank-you she would ever get. Muu's bedroom smelt exactly like him: grass, metal and warmth. Panic momentarily seized her when he gently lowered her on his bed and she tightened her hold on his neck to keep him closer.

"It's okay," Muu reassured her softly, carding a gentle hair through her wild locks, "I'll be right back."

Noor reluctantly let got, burying her face between her knees as soon as Muu left the room, feeling small and vulnerable all over again. She had had the nerve to forget what being a slave had been like. The humiliation, the desperation, the fear. Once upon a time, Noor had been nothing but a number, a merchandise without a personality or feelings. She had lived so comfortably, had led such an easy life here in Reim that she had forgotten what having nothing and being nothing meant. How pathetic. Back in the day, even when she had had nothing and had been nothing, Noor had still desperately been trying to live, she had fought tooth and nail to be granted a chance at life; and now that she had it? She was wasting it.

Once before, when Noor had had no name and no ambition besides living, she had promised herself that should she ever manage to get out of her hellhole, she'd live her life freely with no one to dictate her how she should act. She'd promised herself that she'd taste and consume her freedom to the best of her ability. Was that what she was doing at the moment? Living for Himalia, living for Scheherazade, was that what she wanted to do for the rest of her life? Was that the life she'd chosen for herself? Was that how she was going to live and how she was going to die, shackled and prisoner of other people ambitions when she wanted nothing than to–

" _Noor_."

Muu's hand clasped her knee, maybe more forcefully than necessary but it snapped her out of her dark thoughts. And when she raised her eyes toward his, wide and full of uncertainty, he only stared back with warm, understanding eyes. This, this right here. Noor's eyes widened and her heart gave a painful beat in her chest as understanding dawned. Freedom was right here, right in front of her. She had simply been too blind to realize that it had been offered to her from the very beginning. She sprung, arms encircling his neck, embracing the freedom that she'd ignored till now. And if her lips found Muu's neck even though he never realized because of his hair? Noor was not ready yet to face what the whole extent of finding her freedom meant and the myriad of feelings it had created. One day, she would be.

* * *

 _ **Author note:** _ Seriously, I can't believe I pulled it off. This chapter was so damn hard. It officialy is a turning point in Noor and Muu's relationship but I didn't know how to make it work out without it not being subtle enough. Their relationship won't change per se in the next chapters but have that right here was so damn important.

If you people are shocked about Muu's reaction, I don't apologize. He's come that close to losing one of his own ( _again_ ), he was totally fed up with her and just wanted her to understand how her actions didn't only impact her life but the fanalis Corps as well. Even Muu has limits and Noor has played with them far too much for him to act cool.

This chapter is a milestone of this story because first, it marks the end of the first part of the story, second, a whole bunch of things are progressing. The standing of the fanalis Corps, the relationships, the individual abilities. It pained me to have Yagut get his ass kicked but it was also his first time fighting a magician and seeing magic altogether, he didn't know what approach use in the fight and wasn't entirely focused on the fight because of Noor's presence. It does not mean that Yaqut is weaker than X or Y fanalis, Myron had a household vessel, he did not. End of the argument.

This chapter officially states why Muu Alexius is one of my favorite charachter and why I chose to write on him rather than anyone else. Trashy Muu that I've writed till now is officially banished! Oh, if you were waiting an apology about the delay, won't get it. My computer when kaput in spring, bought one in November and struggled with the end of the chapter for 3 months. I think the chapter's quite good so it was worth it.

Have a nice day, see ya in who knows how long.


End file.
